Shattered
by Catrina Winner
Summary: [HitVan] Hitomi and Van have long since gone their seperate ways, and are living quite happily. They will reflect on each other with nothing more then a few thoughts from time to time. Will it take a tragedy to bring them back together? NEW UPDATE!
1. Blood

Disclaimer: {I'm only stating this once, because I don't want to do it over and over in the chapters to come.} I do not own the series Escaflowne or any of its characters. I also don't own any products or places mentioned within any part of this fanfiction.  
  
Author Notes: I'm going to try and put all the author's notes at the end of each chapter, so they're easier to skip and don't clutter up this area. Just the prologue gets special treatment. Anyway, this is my favorite story format, but I've never written an Escaflowne fanfiction before. I think that you readers out there will like this one, but I would be very grateful if you would state your opinions in the form of reviews. I know the prologue is really short and choppy, but it's supposed to be read like you are an outsider and cannot grasp what's going on. Chapter one actually goes back, before the prologue, {if that makes any sense} so you can view the. incident first hand. Don't read this if you dislike unhappy scenes, even though I promise I happy ending. IF I get enough reviews. ^ ^ Enjoy the fic and review!!  
  
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Shattered  
  
Prologue - Blood  
  
The rain was thick with the blood of innocents. There was nowhere to turn, for the rain was everywhere, and the blood was everything. Nothing was safe from the scarlet water. It could touch all; wash away what was thought to be sacred. Eyes could only observe as the sea of red rushed up to meet and engulf them. To alter their destinies and change their lives forevermore.  
  
It was raining that fated day. The downpour had started early in the morning, never pausing in its surprising onslaught. The sky had been so dark, so gray. Clouds were interwoven thickly through the atmosphere, blocking out any sun. A few looked to the sky, wondering if it would ever end, this rain.  
  
There was no blood in the rain then. She couldn't see it. No one could see it. Perhaps it was hidden beyond the sight of a normal human. Only those who witnessed the wrongful deaths of those who bore no sins could see the dark stains splashing across the ground, leaving a permanent whisper of things that were, and what was to come. There was really nothing to see in the rain until it colored the clean flesh of living people, washing her life away in so much red.  
  
When she looked at her own hands, it was there, dripping slowly to the floor. It wrapped itself around her fingers, thick and warm. Her tears mingled with the scarlet, diluting it, changing it. Everywhere she looked, there was blood. She could feel it seeping through her clothing, drenching her own skin. The neatly pressed skirt she had worn that day was no longer a soft green, but a dark, heavy black. Her white shirt was decorated with her own blood and that of those she cherished. Her fingers trembled as looked down. Everywhere. It was everywhere on her.  
  
The smell of new dead washed over her in endless waves. Her vision blurred in and out. The stench wrapped itself around her, squeezing the breath from her starved throat. It was so thick she would momentarily forget the blood soaking her from head to toe and notice only the smell. It caressed her skin, calling her to give in to the looming blackness waiting at the edge of her sight. She could see it creeping slowly over her, dragging out the release from the world of pain, of horror to which she had just entered. Her throat tightened again as the wind carried the tainted rain into her eyes. It toyed with her hair; as if it could enjoy the pain she was suddenly given and would bear on. The rain, which usually smelled so fresh, was old and broken with decay. It refused to wash away the blood on her, but only added to it.  
  
The rusted metallic taste was sharp in her mouth. Dimly, the girl wondered when it had ever slipped past her lips. When she swallowed, it vanished down her throat, coating it, being replaced. She spit, trying to get it away, away from her mouth, her throat, but there was only more, coming in a river that sprung from a never-ending source she could not find. When she tried shaking her head to remove it, the blackness would leap over her eyes, reminding her of its presence and the fact that it would not leave until she gave herself over to it.  
  
It felt so warm, yet, even as it trickled off her body and towards the floor, she could feel it cooling. The hot life it had represented was fading. She could feel it making paths towards the floor from her face, mixing with the tears that had suddenly sprung up there. It felt slick against her hands, forcing her to look again at her fingers. Though the blood was creating a growing puddle on the floor below her, the flesh of her hands was still blanketed in it. She reached a hand to her face, touching it lightly, noticing the fingers slipped as she did so on her already bloody face.  
  
It painted the walls in strange, grotesque patterns, marking a life that had been, that never will be. It was even covering the floor with a surprising flourish. And the bodies. They were made of the blood, cascading, falling, dripping. It was all blood, all red. Glancing up, she could see it on the ceiling, slipping off and falling towards her upturned face. Even when she turned her eyes to peer outside the window, the clouds, which had so recently been heavy and gray, were now a dark maroon, pouring forth the blood from which she could not escape. The tree's had it on their leaves, slowly allowing it to drip to the ground, where it would remain. It was everywhere.  
  
It could speak, for she could hear it whispering to her. All her fault. She should have prevented this from occurring. She could have. Everyone would know that it was her fault. There was no emotion from the mangled things twisted there on the floor. No pain, anger, or surprise. Just death. What did death feel like? She did not know, but she could sense it there, palpable and heavy. They were gone, and the blood murmured that it was her fault. Everything. She could hear it laughing. Laughing. A life that was beating within the shells of those humans had been destroyed so easily. The pain that was searing through her back was taking over her senses so quickly. She had been spared for the pain and the suffering to kill her later. Why? She had not been allowed the freedom of being broken. She was given over to the pain that would never leave, the one that would remain embedded on the heart forever and could not recede, could not fade.  
  
Somewhere, dimly in her mind, she registered a screaming. It took her a long time, as she stared blankly at the blood, to realize that the loud noise was she own voice, calling for escape and redemption. Crying out for help, vengeance, a way to be free of the pain. It lifted and frightened the bloody birds watching from the window. No one answered her desperate cries. Soon her broken shouts turned into a rough sobbing, pierced only by her voice rising in anguish, as she would see the blood again. The darkness was inching closer and the smell was getting thicker.  
  
Moving bodies suddenly burst through the front door. She tried to warn them not to come in, there was too much blood, but all she could do was stare at the red around her and scream. They ran back and forth with guns, those things that had killed. One looked at her, lying on the floor, and she could swear he started crying with her. In her mind's eye, even as they moved, the blood dripped down from the ceiling and they, too, became covered in it. They were soon beyond recognition of her or anyone, darkly painted in the dead's color.  
  
Three ran over to her. One was afraid of the screaming woman and rushed from the house, clutching his arms. Another chased after him, angrily. The last one remaining near her figure took her by the shoulders and shook her hard. The black leapt over her eyes and swirled around her vision. Behind her, somewhere, someone was shouting. A cool bit of cloth was pressed onto her back, where the wound was. The wound that would not fade, would not leave. The scar on her life to remember this day and all the blood that had been shed. How long ago had she run from a world filled with blood? Why had it followed her? Why? Her hair was red, her hands were dripping, and her eyes were full of the darkness that constantly threatened her. She wasn't been shaken anymore, and there was a gentle sound of the crackle of radios and voices behind her. Someone was probing her back. With a scream of utter agony, the girl spun around and hit the person with all her remaining strength. No one would cause her more pain, not with the old so new in her mind. She could still see it all.  
  
Gasping, her hands flew to her throat. The blood that had filled her mouth and coated her throat was suddenly burning painfully inside her. She smeared the red over what skin remained visible under her chin, fearful of her own death. The blackness receded for a moment, and she could see, with amazing clarity, the three bodies that lay atop each other, dead. Then it sprung back to hide her eyes from the scene, the men that rushed around, wading through the blood, the poor human that had rushed from the room, frightened.  
  
'The world. is. shattered.'  
  
The girl's mind broke, halting the thoughts that had danced within it. There was nothing left. All she could see was the blood, and the broken bodies that lay twisted just beyond her blackened vision. She could feel her own body giving up, falling towards the floor. There were no arms there to catch her this time. No ready assistance for the torn and lost child. Somewhere midway through her fall, she saw a sparkle of bright light and a large, glowing feather floated down to rest in her hand. Before she let the darkness remove her, she clutched at the white feather and held it tightly. No one knew where the feather had drifted from, but they saw the way she held it. One man ventured closer and was surprised to note that none of the blood would touch the pureness of the object. None.  
  
The woman could still hear the laughter of the scarlet sea just before her face hit the floor, splashing blood onto those standing closest, drenching her in it further. She could feel something lifting her, moving her. Then the bloody rain spilled over her, vainly trying to remove some of the evidence of the afflictions she had suffered through, but only managing to soak her shivering body in it more completely. She herself was made of the blood. Her thoughts turned back to the home, which had, so recently, been her own. The red that painted it was stealing her very life away with it. The men shouted and she could only see the one who had run, trembling by the muddy white car she was being born towards. His body shook in fear, and he, too, had blood on his hands. But it was only her blood, and the rain was removing it off for him. The last thing the girl saw was the blood racing away in little rivulets down the street, towards the drain, to disappear as if it had never been. Then the blackness descended down on her mind, quashing any further thought or sight. She gave into it easily, thanking it for the release from the horrible agony of this world.  
  
It was all shattered. The men continued rushing around, pulling up a bright yellow tape around the girl's home as she was lifted into the ambulance and spirited away. Nothing was left for her here, and she was dying. She had seen the fragments of what was, what could have been falling away from her. Everything was broken, and there was no one to repair it. It was over, everything was over. The men around the house straightened their clothing and bowed their heads. It had been a long time since they had seen something this gruesome and twisted. The blood was whispering away in the rain, down the hill, sprinkling the sidewalk as it was washed away. Each person watched it; frightened of the implications it gave. That girl was destroyed; her very world had been wrenched from trembling, blood soaked hands. Nothing could save such a hopeless victim, and nothing would soften the thirst for death and revenge. A few exchanged looks as bystanders began to gather. No one should have to witness such a frightening cacophony of blood and fear. They blocked the street and faced down the curious people, forcing them to turn and leave, saving them from the horrors that they would have to continue to view, until the day was completed and the end was in sight.  
  
The girl was what stood out in there minds most prominently. Her drenched body had been dripping with blood and tears when they had arrived. The men who had brought her outside to the ambulance attested to a strange way the rain all fell on her, but not onto any of them. And, instead of washing the blood away, more had come; more had covered her shaking figure. The sky had been raining the bloody teardrops of the innocents that had died within that house for no reason that came to mind.  
  
Two of the men were still within the house as the others left for the hospital to question the victim as soon as she arose and found whatever voice she could muster. No matter how hard they looked, none of them could discover the soft noise that sounded remarkably like laughter. Finally, they looked down to the blood. Neither of the two wished to admit it, but they both guessed it was the redness that was murmuring the laughter, and no one else was here. Just the three broken humans, piled up in the same area the girl had been in. There was a remarkable amount of blood still flowing from the cold bodies, and the three men were grateful when their relief appeared, prepared to remove whatever was left. They fled the area, shivering madly, wishing their comrades better luck.  
  
The blood had been laughing, ever so softly, and they could hear it whispering it was all her fault. She should have never returned, for this was all that was waiting for her. It may have taken time to appear, but it was all ordained. It was fate, destiny. Nothing could change it. Any human that ever stepped in that household would immediately feel the presence of the same blood. Some would even be able to see it. It would never again be the loving home it had been, for everything was covered in the living blood of the dead, and the world was broken.  
  
Everything was changed, never to be the same again. The white feather glowed in the girl's hand as it cooled, trying to lend it warmth to keep her breathing, keep her living. The men surrounding her could not wipe the blood from her face, could not remove it. The feather suddenly brightened, and it was gone from her, to fall over another. But this would mean nothing to the woman when she awoke.  
  
Her world was shattered.  
  
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Well, that's it for the prologue. I know it was short, but this was simply the introduction to my new fic. Please review it! I'm working on completing the rest of the plot, and the more reviews I see, the faster the chapters appear. ^ ^ Anyway, this will be a very dark fic, but I hate sad endings so there WILL be a happy ending, with enough reviews. Trust me. This fic could take either path.  
  
As for some background information, I wanted to do something with Escaflowne, but I wasn't quite sure what. A lot of people have done the normal "Hitomi misses Van so she returns to Gaea and lives happily ever after", but. I didn't want to do anything like that. I also didn't want to do another "Gaea/Fanelia is in danger yet again" fic. I'm so tired of those. So this is a new take, in which both have realized their love, but hidden it away in their hearts and minds, never thinking it could be reawakened, and it takes a tragedy to discover where they both really belong. {Yes, I suck at summaries, bear with me here, okay?} Everything will be explained in the later chapters. I hope you enjoy reading my humble prodding at dark angst and. dark fluff. {Just don't ask.} Please review!! ^ ^ I love getting reviews! {It makes me want to write more. Hint.} 


	2. A Normal Life

Shattered

A Normal Life

            "Hitomi! Hitomi!!" 

Brown leaves fluttered under the pounding feet of a female figure moving swiftly through the icy morning wind. The sun was trying to break through the thick fog that clung to the area surrounding the city, pushing small slats into the low clouds whenever it could, lighting tiny patches of the ground. Splotches of illumination glowed from tree limbs. The trunk of a particularly old oak spiraled far above the owner of the petite feet that were still moving at the swift pace they kept up for the better part of an hour each daybreak. Their constant, relaxed thud against the pavement was a source of comfort in the knowledge of the extensive, rigid day ahead of the girl. There were not many places were a person could seek reassurance these strenuous days, so many would acquire what they could without complaint.

The mist brushed across her legs as her continued momentum began to slow. The shoes slowed on the pavement, turning to a fast walk. After what seemed to be a moment's deliberation, the girl halted altogether and settled on a length of cool grass. A brown haired female landed next to her an instant later, gasping. 

"Why do you have to run so _fast?_" Yukari demanded her now-resting friend, Hitomi. The blond laughed and shook her head. Yukari flopped backwards, not minding the cold grass splashing the early morning dew across her forehead. Her clothing was wrinkled slightly, as if she had just snatched it from the floor to start her day. Her breath was coming quickly, signaling she had run a long way to find her companion. Hitomi lay on the cool earth, patiently awaiting Yukari to regain her wind. 

Overhead there was a small gap in the mist, allowing a perfect tunnel to the heavens. Far above the sky was tinted gray and heavily laden with dark rain clouds, mostly obscured by the fog. The full scene looked menacing, mist and clouds meshing together in the atmosphere, dancing a ballet of the everlasting. The fog fashioned a casing around the two young women, engulfing the fearsome sky a moment afterward the clouds began to dim. 

Yukari had managed to take hold of her breath throughout the time Hitomi had been gazing at the sky. Hitomi stared boredly into the clouds. _Oh look, there's a bunny! It's fluffy. Does it have three eyes? _She found this odd, though not disturbing. _And that could be a boat, and… _The blonde's thoughts continued to roam through the sky as she lay in her back on the damp blades of grass. Finally Yukari stuck her hand into her view, tilting her fingers back and forth. The foggy light caught and glinted off a beautifully cut diamond. It wasn't particularly large, but it had a simplistic notion that sent refractions of the light every which way and stirred a light reminiscence in Hitomi's heart. 

"Guess what?!" Yukari's cheerful voice chirped into Hitomi's thoughts. She twitched her hand in the dim light again, and Hitomi could sense her smile was wide and bright. She snatched Yukari's hand and sat up quickly, looking over at her best friend of many years, the only one, aside from her family, that had believed her when she told her of the adventure she had survived in Gaea.

"He proposed?" Hitomi asked, and, even though she already knew the answer, pretended to be fully in the dark, despite the fact that Amano had come directly to her, days after returning to Japan from his long stay in the Americas. A few weeks after Hitomi had arrived from what the news called a "mysterious disappearance", Amano had said his goodbyes to the both of them, spending a few days ahead of time with Yukari. With all her naiveté, Yukari had sworn to wait for him. It turned out to be a longer wait than any of them expected, and was a full five years before he returned to his native country. 

The reunion between the three of them had been joyous. The small group had gone to the high school track and relived the memories they had lived when they had still been attending school. Hitomi and Yukari were both taking a year off to study for college entrance exams and earn money to carry them through the remainder of their educations. Yukari had found a wonderful, high paying job with a doctor's office as their secretary. Hitomi had not been nearly as lucky as her close friend, ending in a run-down area of town inside a Fast Mart. 

Fast Mart's long held the reputation for being the greatest convenience store in Japan. It had opened as a small, family owned business. Of course, that didn't last for long, evident in the epidemical way it spread all around the islands. Its shelves were stocked with everything a person could imagine. Food, books, tapes, clothing, anything that came into existence was easily discovered here. It even sported a small gas station (which turned larger over the years) and a neat little service station; sporting the motto "We'll fix your car, while you shop!" Not the most creative ideals that ever rolled around, though definitely some of the more popular ones. Everyone loved Fast Mart. Everyone save for the employees that spent hours privy to the inner workings of the most popular place to buy.

The hard occupations these citizens signed up for were not what they expected. The natives of Fast Mart always seemed happy and bubbly, ready to help out the customers in any way that they could. Once you were hired, you discovered a neat little salary, and some bonuses that made you feel safe and protected in this network. _You could quit any time,_ the seasoned managers assured the green ones, _and we'll even give you a huge severance package! _Perhaps it was just Hitomi who had realized these managers were not quite what they seemed. A few were involved in the REP, a vicious and notorious gang in Japan, the only mob that had survived the country's justice system for so long. Hitomi steered far away from these men, knowing that at any point they could take her life and others with it. 

Fast Mart was also an exclusive cover up for drug trafficking. Sometimes customers would approach the counter, drooling on themselves, and mumble something in English, a catch phrase that Hitomi often missed. _Whenever someone like this comes and affronts you, _the managers had taught, _you say, "One moment please" and get us. _And, so, that's what every employee did, though they knew, in their hearts, what was hidden beneath the rambling exterior of business was a fast network of criminals. 

The REP had lived in Japan for many years, extorting the economy and people with quick tricks. The citizens had, at first, not been able to understand why the forces they paid for were unable to capture these horrible men. Little by little, however, their voices died out, buried in the silence of the answer. They each discovered that the REP owned everything. Fast Mart, the police, the people, the government, the economy… No one could stop them because they were everyone. In the reality, they weren't so very numerous. They were just very tricky. One REP member managed all the Fast Marts, paying off the officials that watched the employees, who, in turn, did their dirty work. Only two existed in the government, handing down money through the system. In the end, the REP had more money than imaginable, and people were easily weakened and turned by the idea that they could have green in their pockets. 

"Yes, yes! He proposed just a short time ago!" Yukari squealed, holding the ring in the meager light. "I met him for breakfast, and suddenly, I'm his fiancée!" She was uncontrollably excited. Hitomi felt the good cheer spreading to her, even though she knew this meeting would make her late for work, something that was unforgivable. Sharing in the joy of her friend during this moment seemed much more important to her then lost wages and lectures.  

During the five years that Amano had been studying in the Americas, Yukari had settled into a humble, simple routine of average grades and a standard life. She refused to date anyone, for reasons only she and Hitomi understood, and quickly earned her diploma. She and Hitomi both choose to wait for college, realizing the money it took to embark on such a journey. Yukari was determined to go to America and study, until Amano suddenly reappeared. It had been a surprise for all of them, though a pleasant one. 

Yukari bounded to her feet, dragging up Hitomi with her. Her eyes were bright and shining, a fixture that had been lit within her the moment Amano returned. She was laughing, a continuous sound that resembled bells, and her smile threatened to split her face in two. Hitomi couldn't help but giggle along with her. The mist swirled between them, leaving dampness on both their faces. Hitomi was getting a bit chilly, but shook it off, watching Yukari in her greatest moment. 

"Hitomi, you _have _to be the maid of honor for the wedding! Oh please?" Yukari's eyes widened and she clasped her hands together, begging. Hitomi couldn't hold in her laughter. 

"Of _course! _Do you even have to ask? I wouldn't miss out on it for the world!" Hitomi said, smiling. "There's nothing that can keep me from that wedding! And attending as the maid of honor? That's more than I could have expected!" 

Yukari squealed and threw her arms around Hitomi. Both girls fell back onto the grass, their laughter slipping in and out of the surrounding fog. Yukari finally released Hitomi from the suffocating hug and bounced back onto her feet. Hitomi followed her, only slightly slower.  

"Oh, Hitomi! This will be so much fun! Isn't it strange, though? I mean, it's finally happening! I had to wait so long for this, but it's happening!" Yukari's bright and cheerful voice continued speaking, but Hitomi was no longer listening much. 

_She did have to wait a long time for this…_ Hitomi thought to herself. _How many years has it been since I went to Gaea and tried to sort through my **own**_ _feelings? _She allowed herself a small smile as her mind turned back to Fanelia and Van. 

It had been five years since Hitomi had returned to her homeland. At first, it had been a lonely return. She could not tell others of the incredible journey she had experienced, as no one in their right minds would have believed her. Only Yukari and Hitomi's family understood and accepted with very few questions. The first year had been the most difficult for Hitomi. She had often thought of Van and saw his winged figure at bus stops, restaurants, flying overhead, everywhere she looked; he was there. Finally, she tried to shake herself free of the constant pattern, before Yukari could worry too much about her. She devoted herself wholly to her studies and entered into a well-known high school with Yukari. Her high school years were nothing remarkable, but Hitomi enjoyed them nonetheless. 

And then, as she entered her second high school year, it was as if her mind no longer had enough room to continuously reminisce about Van. For three short years everything had centered on school and her friends. Between the two, she rarely had any extra time to sit around and think about the past. It had been that final healing time that she had needed to put the reminiscences about Van to the rear of her mind. Of course, there were still moments she looked back, but now they were fond memories she could smile at. 

Seeing Yukari's happy, bright smile, Hitomi couldn't help but remember Van again. She had been just as content when she had finally chosen him. Obviously, that was before she was taken back to her own world. Still, she and Van _had _something special. Smirking a bit, Hitomi wondered if Van had found another girl to be with. She had been so busy that there had been little time for any other boys to occupy herself with. _But, in Fanelia they probably have their kings and princes marry early… So, it stands to reason that Van is probably settled down. Maybe he even has kids! Oh, I wonder what they look like. And his wife too… I bet she's nice. _Hitomi suddenly laughed. She couldn't help it. Just a few years ago thoughts like these would have reduced her to tears in seconds. Now, they only served to make her happier for him. Yukari was shooting her an odd look. 

"You don't think I should go with the pink, then? Is that so funny? Oh, god, I thought that the pink dresses would match so well too!" her hands flew up to her mouth and Hitomi shook her head, trying to stop laughing, but it was difficult. 

"No, no, sorry, my mind wandered… I couldn't help it… Pink would go well, I'm sure of it," she gasped and glanced up at her now-relieved looking friend. 

"What, were you thinking of him again, Hitomi?" Yukari sounded slightly worried, her voice echoing slightly in the ever-thickening fog that curled its cold fingers around the two girls. Yukari had been the only one privy to all of Hitomi's thoughts and worries about her lost-love those first years and was inclined to be a bit upset whenever Hitomi brought him up again. Hitomi shook her longer, honey-colored hair. 

"Yes, but don't worry so much Yukari! Would you like to walk me to work?" she asked brightly and Yukari gulped. 

"Oh no! I've made you late, haven't I? You told me that your manager gets angry when you're late… Sorry!" 

Hitomi laughed again and glanced at her watch. "Nah, I have another couple of minutes. Plenty of time to get down there and check in with the bosses. Besides, it won't kill them to have a temporary employee be a little late now and then, will it?" Yukari shook her head, brown hair fluttering limply around her in the rain-laden mist. 

The two girls set off towards the heart of town, neither rushing much. Hitomi was unexcited about another day at work. Personally, she couldn't wait to escape the job, but she needed to have her options lined up before quitting. Yukari was desperately trying to convince the doctor that she worked with to give Hitomi a chance as a secretary with her, but he was already overstaffed as it was and couldn't stand the idea of another secretary lazily drifting about the office. 'Too many cooks ruin the stew!' he had told Yukari over and over again. Yukari was stuck, not wanting to lose her job (where she believed she was overworked, considering she was usually the only secretary there and was _still _waiting for all these other 'cooks' to show up and ruin the stew with her.) 

A little over five minutes and they were in the shoddy neighborhood, which centered on Hitomi's Fast Mart. A homeless man waved a cup at them, smiling toothlessly, and croaking for change. Hitomi stopped and dug into her purse, dropping whatever she found into his tin cup. Then, she handed him a bag she had also pulled out, smiling brightly. 

"Hey, John, here's the toothpaste and stuff I promised to get for you… I hope it's the right stuff!" she said cheerfully. The man gave them another smile and waved them away once the bag was safely in his hands. Yukari noticed he was wearing new mittens. As soon as they were out of his hearing, she shoot Hitomi a look. 

"You know, you'll never have enough money for college if you keep buying homeless people things like that," she admonished. Hitomi shrugged. 

"Oh, come off it. It's only some toothpaste and food! It's not like it'll send me to the poorhouse or anything. It's the least I can do."

"Hitomi, he doesn't even have _teeth!_" Yukari snapped. Hitomi laughed, aggravating her friend. 

"It's okay, I have an employee discount!" she said cheerily, as if that explained everything. Yukari rolled her eyes and halted, waving her friend on. 

"Well, you go… work at that… place…" she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "I'm going back to Amano! We have a lot of planning, now, you know!" she said, brightening. Hitomi grinned with her and gave her a tight hug. 

"You two are going to be the most perfect married couple there could be! I'll find you a _fabulous _wedding present, you just wait!" Pivoting on her heel, she ran into the mist, one hand raised in farewell. Yukari would never forget her like that, smiling, racing away into the fog, waving as if everything would be okay, forever. 

Hitomi rushed into the Fast Mart, the icy air conditioning making her shiver. She saw her rough-looking manager almost immediately and called out to him. He turned and saw her, nodded sharply. That was her check-in. Now she needed to get changed and figure out wear she would be today, before the clock registered the start of her shift. 

Outside, the clouds clumped together and wove a net of black across the entire sky. The fog would vanish over the day, leaving the ominous looking atmosphere as a testament of what the rest of the day would bring. As Hitomi struggled into her regular uniform, pulling her hair into a ponytail, thunder rumbled outside, growling like a beast starved for blood. 

A slash of lightening and the loudest clap of thunder yet heard sounded just over the roof of the Fast Mart. Hitomi jumped, but swallowed her misgivings and turned to the assignment board. There was something very unsettling in the way the storm was about to break outside. 

Very unsettling indeed.

*** 

**Author's Notes: **I suck at foreshadowing! I seriously have to work on that. Cliffhanger? Ha. HA! Not really a good one, though. I mean, of _course _something bad is going to happen. It wouldn't be _right _otherwise. 

Anyway, yes, I _know _it's been a year since I last updated, so if any of you are still reading this, then, thank you. I'd love some reviews. Even flames would be good now. And, the story will pick up. This chapter took me so long to come out with because nothing _happened. _It's not _scary. _It's not _funny. _It's so… _boring. _I hope it was more interesting to read then write. Well, let me know! 

Just one other note. I already have everything planned and plotted and (hold your breaths) _written down!! _So, obviously, that means I can talk about guesses, etc., with you! Whoo, right?! 

**silver sea star:** Does this count as writing again soon? Can we pretend? Please?

**Laka: **You really think it's good? Thank you! I hope this is still keeping up with those standards…

**Isy Okolo: **I can't tell you if the girl in the prologue is Hitomi… You'll have to wait and see! (Look at me be mysterious!)

And thank you to all other reviewers! I'll try to thank/answer questions at the bottom of my author's notes each chapter… (Easier to skip… :D) 


	3. A Day on the Job

Shattered

A Day on the Job

Hitomi stared at the assignment board, gulping. _Cake decorator?! What? I don't decorate_ anything_. Especially not _**cakes**_. Has the manager gone mad? Maybe it's a mistake. It _has****_to be a huge, regular, everyday, enormously stupid mistake. There's no way they'd make me do something like that. Heh, yeah, mistake, that's all. That's got to be all. _Nervously, Hitomi turned from the board and saw a dismal, tired looking girl she had spoken to once or twice in passing. Her name was something along the lines of Maria. Or Marie. Or maybe it was Marge. _Ugh! This day is not going to be a good one, _she thought to herself and forced a smile at the M-girl. 

"Oh, hey, how are you?" she asked, hoping the sparkle of her teeth would blind the poor thing and she could make an escape. However, Hitomi had not remembered to brush her teeth that morning. A menacing shudder touched on the building as the storm continued to build up momentum outside the tiny break-room window. 

"Miserable," the M-girl responded, sighing. Hitomi suddenly recalled why she tried _not _to talk to this girl. Ever. "But, it's no surprise. Nothing ever goes right for me." Insert the dramatic sigh and lift of the shoulders as M slumped uncomfortably against the back of her chair. It let out its own dramatic screech and rocked slightly. This only served to dampen the strange girl's mood. 

"Well… um… some weather we're having, huh?" she said, lightly, inching towards the doorway. 

"Oh, it matches me so perfectly. I _love _this weather. It's so raw. It's me. In a cloud," another huge sigh. "And you just go. Go and be free. And _happy. _I don't need you," she turned and gazed out the window at the irregular lightening flashes, probably imagining how the light was opposite of her, except for the anger. Lightening was angry, right? Hitomi took this moment to crane her neck and catch sight of M's nametag thrown on the table in front of her. _Minnie! That was it. Huh. You'd think a Minnie would be happier… Or something. _Hitomi shrugged and smiled as nicely as she could and proceeded to be slammed in the back of the head by the light aluminum door as the manager stomped in.

"You!" he pointed at Minnie. "Photos; go! Now!" Minnie oozed out of her chair, pinned her nametag on backwards, and slumped out the door, sighing every two and a half steps. "You!" Here the manager's meaty finger was leveled on Hitomi, who desperately tried to keep her non-sparkly smile pasted on her face. "Where are you supposed to be?"

"Bakery… But… Uh, you see, sir," she began, but the manager shook his head. Obviously, there were other employees out there to be pushed around and Minnie would need to be lectured on smiling and _not _throwing the plastic cameras onto the floor. Again. 

"What? You don't _like _the bakery?" he asked, impatient, angry, ready to spread unpleasantness to the slackers wearing the Fast Mart insignia. 

"No, it's just that… I'm not a bakery… um… type. I guess," she said, slowly. The manager raised his huge, bushy eyebrows as high as they could go without exposing too much of his piggy eyes. 

"Didn't you take the employee training?" Hitomi nodded meekly. "No, don't say you did badly at it. There was nothing about that on your file, so you _must _be good enough at it. You decorate cakes. It's not hard._ I_ could do it," here he snorted; as if the idea of icing cakes was so hilarious that he could hardly stand it. "Now, _go, _before you're late and I have to dock your pay," he finished, glancing at the clock with extra emphasis. With as much flourish as an angry pig in a tumbled uniform can have, he blew out of the break-room and down the short hallway. Hitomi stared at the tattered green carpet underneath her shoes. 

 Cake decorating. Cake decorating was _not _her forte. In fact, it was something she enjoyed the least. _Why not Customer Services? Or… or… the Service Station? Or even Great Greeter!! _Why _cakes?! _Why _decorating?! Why me? _She groaned. There wasn't exactly much that she could do about the whole situation, as the manager had made quite clear. She dragged her feet as much as she dared, but was soon assaulted with the cheery cakes and smiling cookies waiting for her to sell. The regular baker was already there, bustling around. She saw Hitomi and gave a quick wave to signal her over. Hitomi, arriving on said designated spot a second later was presented with several items and a speedy explanation. 

"You Hitomi?" she pronounced her name with a strange accent, and her name came out mangled, sounding like 'hit-only". Hitomi nodded, a bit numb. "I'm Mado, but you can call me Ma. You'll be decoratin' cakes today and handlin' customers. An' it should be a busy day, even with this tiny storm thumping around, so I don' want ter see you taking and breaks or nothin' when you should be up and about, understand?" Another nod from Hitomi and 'Ma' shoved everything into her hands. "The classes you took will be enough, jus' follow the instructions I give you with each cake. _Never _screw up. Here's yer apron, put it on, don' take it off till the work is done and yer hairnet. If I find one bit of hair around here, it'll be yours, not mine, and you'll be in trouble." Trouble sounded much like treble. Hitomi shoved her hair underneath the hairnet and tied on the apron. 

"Now, only come bother me if it's real important. I have to bake and all and I hate to be disturbed. Now, off you git, hurry up," and with the impromptu shove towards a sink, Ma was gone and Hitomi was bewildered. 

She washed her hands and turned towards a pleasant looking cake. Next to it was a sticky note, scrawled with something that resembled "white icing, hearts (6), I love Jon, pink, ready at seven AM). Hitomi crumpled her nose in disgust, but grabbed the icing container from the shelf and shoved it into the microwave, desperately trying to recall everything about decorating from her employee training. 

_First, make sure icing is good, no holes in the cake… Get everything out that we need… _here she paused and snatched out the two tubes of pink and red and settled them on the counter with a wince. _And… Ugh, what else? I guess… Make it nice… Or something. _She shrugged and grabbed the white icing and the small spatula used for spreading. She plopped the icing on and smeared it around, bored already. _This job isn't as bad as I thought it would be, _Hitomi thought. She yawned and perfected the edges. She smudged one of the hearts a tad, but with a little white icing as cover-up, it looked fine. 

Ma bustled out at quarter to seven to inspect her work. She nodded and grunted something that sounded like an 'okay'. Then she dropped a supposed army of cookies to be iced in front of Hitomi and swept away. Hitomi attacked the cookies easily, feeling like she could just about take on the world. If her first cake was acceptable, she could only get better, right? And the cookies were easy. They just needed two colors and "Go" or "team" written on each. Hitomi couldn't have asked for better.

Close to 7:30, a harried, unhappy looking woman rushed to the bakery's front and leaned over the plastic counter. "You!! You girl, hurry over here! Hurry!" she shouted at Hitomi. Slipping on her now-ready smile, Hitomi rubbed her hands clean on a towel and trotted over to her. 

"Yes, ma'am?" she asked, smiling for all she was worth and staying well beyond this (obviously insane) woman's grasp. "How may I help you?"

The woman was still gasping for air and seemed to be turning a bit red in the face. "Cake for Jon!" she half-snarled. Hitomi inched closer and slipped the box from beneath the glass protector and handed it to the woman. She immediately opened it up and stared down at it, hard. 

"Made fresh today? Like I asked? I'm paying for it, you know. Fresher _isn't _cheaper," she said grumpily, obviously not finding anything immediately wrong with the decorations. Hitomi felt a bit better. 

"Of course it is… Finished decorating just a little while ago… Price is on the box, please pay up front!" she chirped and smiled again. "Anything else, ma'am?" The woman snapped a rude 'no' and swept away from Hitomi, the box clutched to her chest as if a cake-starved burglar would leap from behind the cereal boxes at any moment.  

The day ran smoothly for Hitomi until noon. By now, the storm outside had worked itself into quite a fury, screaming over them in rage. No rain had yet fallen, leaving Hitomi to pray that it wasn't waiting until she had to walk home. 

Hitomi had just put the last touches on a layered chocolate cake, writing (without much enthusiasm) "Happy Birthday, Little Timmy!" She had to cram the last 'y' a bit tighter against the other letters, but otherwise she couldn't see anything else for the buyer to complain about. So far, there had only been one no-show, which Ma said was fantastic, and five new orders for the next week. 

It was just about then that a pack of giggly girls (who looked decidedly American) wandered to the clear glass of the bakery and began to point and laugh at the Japanese writing on the cakes. Hitomi started over to them, but Ma beat her to it, grinning almost as widely as the girls. They began a slow, broken conversation in English. It ended with Ma selling off half the cookies that were so humorous to the foreigners.  

Hitomi had just about given up on worrying about her day when a fly, a tiny little fly, fluttered across her line of sight.  Hitomi couldn't _stand _flies. And in the bakery, of all places! What a terrible, impudent little creature!  Hitomi peered around the counter, trying to find Ma and report the perpetrator.  Ma was nowhere in sight as the fly landed on the cake Hitomi was just finished with and began slogging through the icing.  

Hitomi could feel herself turning red in the face.  How _dare _that fly touch _her _icing?  She had spent a lot of time working on perfecting the confectionary good and not for a _fly_.  Very slowly, she leaned down and jabbed at the fly, crushing it into the cake.  It buzzed once, pathetically, and died.  Hitomi straightened and realized she now had a very unsanitary cake, containing a very dead fly.  She was about to toss it into the trash and face Ma when a young male poked his head around the edge of the counter.  

"Um...  Cake for Timmy?  Now...  I'm so very, very late..." he mumbled, staring at the ground.  Hitomi swallowed and glanced towards the disgusting cake, then shrugged.  She smeared more icing over the hole and tucked it into its little box with a smile.  

"Yes, sir!  Right here, sir!  Please pay up front!"  The words came easily to her and the man opened the box to check the cake.

"It's very nice.  Yes, very, very nice.  He'll like it.  Timmy, I mean.  Timmy likes cake," here the man paused, almost uncertain whether to go on.  Hitomi tilted her head and put on her best I'm-totally-innocent! look.  

"Sir?"  she questioned.  The man was staring down at the cake, almost as if it were about to leap from the box and chew on one of his eyebrows.  His face was turning slightly green and his hands began to quake.  Hitomi leaned slightly farther over the counter, looking concerned.  "Sir?  Sir, are you feeling okay?" 

Releasing an earsplitting scream, the tiny, pale man hurled the cake onto the floor.  Hitomi could only stand in utter astonishment as cake bits flew at her, mingling with her hair, greeting her clean uniform, and snuggling against her new shoes.  She stared at the shrieking man before her as he ran in tiny circles, whimpering and crying.  He held one arm outstretched, pointing at the destroyed confectionary on the floor as he ran in his path, a single finger pointing at a small, shifting mound of icing.  Hitomi glared downward, covered in icing and a "T" across her chest.  

She knew it was the fly.

Ma rushed out of the back room in time to see Hitomi lift her icing-drenched shoe and strike the cake.  Bits of one of the M's splattered into her hair and the little man shrieked as blue icing struck him in the eye.  He fell to the floor, writhing around as if in great pain.  Hitomi was muttering, pounding her foot into the cake, again and again.  She finally paused, lifted her shoe, and broke into a huge smile.  

"It's dead!  I knew it!  Nothing can destroy my beautiful cakes!  Aha!"  She blinked, slowly returning to the chilly store atmosphere and met Ma's burning eyes.  With a swallow, her own eyes turned to the pale man crying on the tiles, his face streaked with blue coloring.  Icing clung tenaciously to his hair and he sobbed, hugging pieces of the broken cake to him.

"Oh no…  Oh dear…  Timmy…  Timmy your cake!" he whimpered, petting the crumbling confectionary.  Hitomi turned her eyes towards Ma, again, and noted she was standing an inch away from her face.  

"I…  And… a fly?" she tried.  Ma snorted and pushed her towards the back room.  

"You.  Five minutes to clean up.  Then we'll talk."  Hitomi skittered away as quickly as she could.  Behind her, Ma helped the small man up, promising him another cake, free, and ready in just ten minutes.  The little man was consoled enough, for he stopped sobbing, and dropped the cake bits he had been clutching to him like a lifeline.  

Hitomi scrubbed as much of the icing out of her hair and off her skin as she could.  Running to the break room, she managed to "borrow" a uniform of her size and discard the destroyed one she was wearing.  Returning to Ma in just under seven minutes, she was terrified.  But the big woman did not seem angry.

"Now.  I don' know what happen'd, and I don' very well care.  Yer goin' to be wearin' this for the affernoon.  Put 'er on and git yerself to the front of the store.  And I'll jest overlook this incident," as she spoke, Ma tossed Hitomi a board shaped like a cake and a large candle hat.

Hitomi wanted to cry.

But she knew better than to refuse this way out of trouble.  Swallowing her pride, she struggled into the cake, which read "Bakery in the back!  Best sweets in Japan!"  The hat made her wince, and was difficult to keep on her head.  Even when she tied the string under her chin so tightly it cut into her skin, the candle would wave back and forth atop her head and unbalance her.  Ma snorted and pushed her off through the aisles, making it clear she would hear no complaints.

Fast Mart was emptying quickly as the storm still threatened to break outside.  People were rushing in for those last minute life-savers, in case they were stuck home for many days.  Hitomi tried to ignore the incredulous looks many of the shoppers were giving her.  She pulled on a pair of puffy yellow gloves that finished the costume, trying to force all her concentration on the coffee stains that dotted them.  Unfortunately, coffee stains did not deafen her to all the half-concealed snickers of the shoppers around her.

Finally, she emerged from her waddling trip down the long aisles and found herself totally exposed.  A few people turned from the checkout to stare and Hitomi couldn't help but grumble as she stepped in front of the door.  A young boy, rushing to get into the store, collided with her, knocking the candle askew.  Fearfully, his big, brown eyes focused on the candle now sprouting from her ear.  He burst into tears and rushed to hide in his mother's skirts.

Hitomi squished a glove to her forehead, discovered the coffee stains were _new, and shoved the candle back in its former position.  To keep in balanced, she had to walk like a dancer, pointing her toes and tapping the floor lightly before she had enough confidence in the floor to step.  She kept her head high and as level as possible, trying not to jostle the candle.  But, it was a nearly impossible feat as it wiggled back and forth like a giant hand, waving to get the shopper's attention._

Hitomi decided she hated flies.

The hours passed by slowly, dragging their feet, melding into one another.  Hitomi stood outside the store, waving goofily at all the shoppers that entered and gave her a wide berth.  The sky outside was almost pitch black and the wind rushed into the store whenever the door slid open with difficulty.  Like a snarling beast, it snatched at the people running inside, hissing back out into the dark, threatening streets.

Hitomi was asked to dance by several customers with small children.  Apparently, a stupid costume meant she was to know a cake dance.  Mostly she wiggled her hands and jumped from foot to foot, trying not to burst into humiliated tears.  The children didn't seem pleased with her performances, anyway, preferring to rush away and into the store.  The parents trailed after them, tiredly, and Hitomi was released from her routine.

Understandably, Ma came out to check on her during a quick break.  She was witness to one of Hitomi's awkward dances and clapped her on the neck, as it was the only exposed bit of skin she could reach.

"Good, good.  You only git a few hours of this.  Make the mos' of it.  Yep, havin' fun."

Hitomi almost begged to go back to decorating confectionaries.  Anything but being a huge dancing cake with a lopsided candle.  

Throughout the last few hours of her shift, the Great Greeter moved to her doorways.  He was a giant smiley face that squished.  Of course, the little children all ran up to the huge green smile for a hug.  When he looked over at her, Hitomi could _feel his challenge.  Regrettably, Hitomi did _not_ feel like engaging in a face-off with a giant green smiley face that walked.  She gave up the door, much to Great Greeter's joy, and inched backwards until she could catch the costumers at the second door into the store, the less used one.  _

The rest of the day passed slowly, until a man, obviously sick, stumbled into the store.  He was windblown and looked terrible.  Hitomi, having a caring nature, rushed to help him.  Apparently, a huge cake stumbling towards him was _not _the cure the man had been searching for.  He expressed his dislike by puking on her candle.

Hitomi shrieked and jumped away, the candle falling onto the floor.  She stepped on it, slipped, and crashed into the display of bread behind her.  Biscuits, buns, and loafs scattered everywhere, many falling from their packages.  She opened her eyes to her rather piggish manager staring down at her.

"So.  You've ruined the costume, young lady.  Why you've bothered to work for us, I don't know.  Get up.  We'll be taking all this damage from you paycheck."

Hitomi struggled to stand, wincing as the cardboard cake tore in half.  The manager's eyes narrowed as she picked it and the candle up, handling the hat carefully, desperate to not touch the filth that coated it.  The sick man was left on the floor as the manager roughly shoved her into the break room.  Her shift would have been over in another ten minutes. 

Emerging from the manager's office a full half hour later, Hitomi rubbed her ears, trying to get his reprimands out of her mind.  It wasn't really _her_ fault that man had chosen to destroy _her _costume.  Everything was against her today.  She sighed and glanced through the glass doors, into the foreboding darkness that awaited her.  The wind still snarled, but there was no rain.  

She checked her hair, making she it was up as well as she could get it.  Pulling her thin jacket close around her, Hitomi leaned into the door to make her way home.

Or, at least, she tried.

The wind was so strong and vicious, the doors were all stuck closed.  Staring, Hitomi felt the familiar welling of tears in her throat.  Pressing her face to the cold glass, she stared out into the bleak darkness, searching for a shopper to trigger the door.  But there was no one left in the raging storm.  Everyone had intelligently headed home.  And Hitomi was stuck inside a _Fast Mart_, of all places, until she could leave.

Standing rooted in her spot, she waited for the wind to break for one moment.  But it was whipping itself into a more stunning and ferocious fury than anything she had ever witnessed.  A stocky man finally walked over to her, frowning.  He was attired in a security uniform.

"Young lady, soliciting is illegal.  Now, I know it's not so pretty outside, but it ain't bad, and you need to go," with a grunt, he pushed open the door to the screaming world beyond and Hitomi, nodding meekly and thanking him, rushed out.  

Immediately, she realized being trapped inside the Fast Mart was certainly better than being out here.  The wind flattened her against the building and tore at her.  Its claws ripped tears from her eyes and stung across her legs.  Something flew by in the darkness and slashed open her jeans, hardly missing her skin.  

Terrified, holding to the side of the building for support, she looked up.  And wished she hadn't.

The clouds were so horrifying, they could have been a mirror to hell.  The wind mangled them, swirling them into a rolling mixture of darkness.  Red slashes of lightening licked their ways between the sheets of black.  The clouds were swollen with rain and as Hitomi moaned her fear they broke.

Enormous, painful droplets of rain began to strike her shoulders and torso.  The wind, picking up on its cue, captured the rain and sent it screaming into Hitomi's face.  It stung her legs and chest and hissed as it struck the building.

For Hitomi, the painful rain was all it took.  Her brain shrieked a signal to the feet and she was propelled out into the thick of the storm.  For all her running, the wind buffeted her enough that she could hardly stagger along at a walking pace.  Still, she ran.  

Fighting through the slashing rain, Hitomi trusted her feet to bring her back home, unable to see more than a few feet in front of her.  Thunder was screeching around her, clapping, popping her ears with its loud calls.  Lightening torched the air, red as blood, its fingers snaking across the sky.

Hitomi couldn't tell if she was crying.  She couldn't hear her feet splashing across the pavement.  She was unsure if she was running up the road or on the sidewalk.  Her whole being begged to be home, inside, away from the animalistic storm that plagued her. 

The red lightening sizzled, popped, and struck somewhere near her.  She dropped down into the rushing rivulets of water around her, her body humming with fear.  _Oh god, that strike was so close.  It must have been within a few thousand yards.  I have to get home.  Home…_

Her mind sang the sweet word over and over.  _Home, home, home.  She forced her body up, told her feet to run.  Bending into the wind, her body screamed in agony as the wind cut its icy fingers across her.  The afternoon was plunged into the deepest dark Hitomi had ever witnessed.  Lightening was her only light, her only guide, and her worst enemy.  There was not a person on the streets now.  She was the only creature beating her way home._

Her normal half-hour run had turned into a hellish battle against Nature's most fearsome monsters.  Three and a half hours later, Hitomi collided with something and clung to it.  Through the darkness she could almost make out a mailbox.  Struggling to read the name on it, Hitomi recognized one of her neighbors and tried to force her tired lips into a smile.  Six houses up.  Six houses to go and she would be _home._

Lunging back into the wind and rain, calling up every last reserve of strength in her body, Hitomi walked slowly, achingly slowly, up the street.  A ball smashed into her side, stealing away her breath and doubling her over.

_Almost done.  Two houses._  Trying to swallow her pain, she stood again and moved up.

One house.

Two houses.

_Home_.

Her hand was on the doorknob.  The storm was screaming in its rage, trying to heave her away, back to its mercy.  She jiggled the knob, frowned when it was locked.  Lightening hissed nearby, thunder shuddered the foundation, making her jump.  The animal storm growled as she fought for her key.

Rain sheeted down, a second, more furious clap of thunder, compounded with the slamming of the door, and Hitomi's doorstep was empty.  A scream, unlike a human, but not of the storm, broke from the house.  

The storm raged on.

** 

**Author's Notes: **And, another chapter!  And this time, no year-long wait!   (Thank goodness, right?)  Anyway, I'm starting a mailing list for this fanfiction.  E-mail me at catwinner@earthlink.net and provide me with your e-mail address and the story title (in this case, "Shattered").  Also, you may leave a review with your e-mail address and ask to be put on my list, and I'll add you.  Those on the mailing list will be notified the moment I upload a new chapter! Thanks for sticking around to read this chapter and please, if it strikes your fancy, leave me a review!  I would appreciate it very much.

Also, the rating for this story will be raised to R, in ready for the next chapter.  It will be very graphic and very violent.  Please do not read if you are upset by these things.  I'll summarize what went on in the author's notes if you wish to skip.  Thank you.

**Angel-wings-131**: Yes, I have a very good idea as to how she'll get back to Gaea (if at all).  Eheh.  Van _is_ her only way back, but how can she get him to save her?  That's what you should be wondering now, I'll bet.  Yes, Van is the only way she can return.  Hope you'll stick around long enough to discover how that all works.  ^^

**ReddAlice**: I have no set update schedule.  However, when I start something, I always finish it.  Thanks for choosing my fic!  And, no, I've never worked at Wal-Mart or any store like that for money, really, just volunteering work.  But, I'm a storyteller, so I steal friend's crazy days and mush them into this.  Hehe.

**Skittles1**:  Well, at least it wasn't a year, yes?  The blood is revealed (or, I suppose, _caused) in the next chapter.  Hope you stick around for it!_


	4. The Endings

Shattered

The Endings 

**WARNING**:  This chapter will be _very graphic and violent.  _Please do NOT read if you are easily upset of offended by unpleasant things.  There is a short summary of what goes on under the Author's Notes at the _end _of the chapter.  _Please _skip the chapter if you are easily disturbed.  

Hitomi saw the door open.  It was a quick motion, assisted by the animalistic wind, hungry for prey.  Her keys dropped to the doorstep below, their ringing noise drowned out by a clap of thunder.  Her eyes widened, her heart sped up, and everything around her seemed to slow.  Inside, a paunchy man stared back at her.  His eyes were small, hidden under rolls of skin sagging down his face.  His arm reached for her, slowly to her.  She tried to move away, but it was as if her entire body was attached to the mat beneath her feet.  His thick arm flashed across her face and fastened on her own arm, roughly heaving her inside _her _home.  He smiled a fat smile at her.

"Yo, Spike, we got another one."

More men!  Two were laughing near the hallway, holding bottles of beer in their hands.  Hitomi could easily see their guns, one dangling from each belt.  Her eyes, wide with fear, darted around the room.  Her heart flew into her throat and her mouth opened, releasing an inhuman scream as she saw her family – her sweet little brother, her loving mother, her jovial father – tied up together on the couch, blood trickling from her father's head.

"Dammit, girl, shaddup!"  The fat man swung his arm again and knocked her down.  Spike laughed and wandered over to her huddled body. 

"You're a stupid bitch, ain't ya?  Ya scared?  Huh?"  Hitomi winced, tears stinging her eyes as she felt the man's beer dribbling through her hair.  

The white walls around her were dark, a single light glowing in the office at the end of the hallway.  The floor was scuffed, mud-caked and disgusting.  Blood was mixed into the filth on the floor.  A fourth man walked out of the office.

Each man was wearing black leather.  Every single one had a gun somewhere in sight of Hitomi, many of them probably hiding other weapons.  Two wore long black jackets and high cowboy-esque boots.  The large one that had pulled Hitomi in was dressed in a billowing black shirt and jeans that were too tight for his body.  Spike, the supposed leader of this ragtag bunch, wore a short bomber jacket and a fake smile.  

"So, girl, ya know who _we _are?" he asked, the corner of his lips tugging upward.  The four men turned around, showing the elaborate decoration on the back of the jackets.  It was a three-pronged claw, each ending in a shiny, sharp point.  Blood formed a puddle beneath the sewn picture, a single claw dripping with it.  Hitomi's shivered, shaking her head back and forth as quickly as she could manage.

"No!" she croaked out.  The four men looked at her, intrigued.  

"No, what, girl?" the fat one asked.

"I haven't done anything to you!  I've never been bad!  I always did what they asked!" 

Spike frowned.  "You know REP, girl?" 

Hitomi was choking on her sobs, terrified.  The storm outside was still screeching.  "I work at Fast Mart!" she managed.  The concerned look on Spike's face faded away, and he began to laugh.  

"Fast Mart, eh?  Well, ain't that a pity!  Boys, she works at Fast Mart, can't do anythin' bad to her now!"  The whole group, as if on cue, laughed along with their fearless leader.  The idea that this small girl, cowering before them, thought she could make any difference in what they were planning was absurd.  "Timmy, tie her."

The fat man lifted her up and lashed a long piece of rope around her midsection, cutting into her arms.  Hitomi squeaked an "ow" and the man snickered, shaking his head.  Somewhere in the house a window was shattered.  

"Damn John!  If you ain't more quiet, the whole world's gonna be on our asses!" Spike shouted.  A muffled "sorry!" rolled from the house and Hitomi stared at Timmy with big, tearful eyes as he forced her to sit down again.  She risked another look at her family and saw her younger brother sobbing, trying to hold the tears in or cry silently.  Her heart broke. 

"Now, see girl, we weren't gonna kill anyone today.  But, this storm is so bad?  It needs some blood or somethin'.  We're religious folk, we unnerstand all that.  You have such a nice house, we jest decided to meander in here, check it out.  And kill for this storm, if we was so inclined.  And, look!  You and your family – you came here jest for us!  So kind of ya," Timmy told her, bobbing his head to each word.  Hitomi whimpered.

"Start with the whiny one," Spike ordered.  Timmy stood and walked away from Hitomi, lifting a gun from his coat pocket, different from the one hanging off his belt.  He tugged a rag from his jeans and began to carefully caress the gun. 

"I hate it when these things git dirty," he muttered.  Spike shot him a rude look and Timmy shoved the cloth back into his pocket.  "Sorry, sir."  

The gun was shining in the dim light from the office.  Hitomi felt fear welling up.  _No!  I promised Yukari I would be her maid of honor, I have to go to college still!  I didn't get to tell my parents that Yukari's getting married.  I bought a cookie for my brother!  Oh, where did that cookie go?!  I have to give him the cookie!  I can't die!  _

Timmy neatly leveled the gun's sights on her head.  "Bye, little girl.  Don't worry – your family will join you real soon."  His finger rested on the trigger.  Hitomi stared at him, her racing heart betraying her fear.  All she could think of was the cookie in her back pocket.  The cookie for her little brother.  The little boy crying silently on the couch.  _I'm going to die, _she realized suddenly.  

"NO!" her father yelled, pushing himself off the couch in front of Hitomi's rigid body.  "You _won't _kill my daughter!"  

Spike sighed and snatched Timmy's gun from him.  He shot Hitomi's father once in the leg.  He screamed in pain, doubling over.  Hitomi's head swam at the sight of the blood seeping from the small wound.

"Listen, old man.  First off, you'll git your turn.  Just wait.  Second, we already went over this with you.  You can't protect them.  In fact, you'll die first.  So they can _all_ see their precious _father **die**_," he snarled, shooting him in his other leg.  Hitomi's mother gave a mangled cry, tumbling off the couch after him.  Her brother was kicked to the side, his face buried in the cushions, unable to see the unfolding events.  

"Oh, God!  Don't kill him, please don't kill him!" she screamed, her hair mussed with her on blood.  Spike looked annoyed. 

"You're next, lady.  Shut _up_.  Timmy, shut her up."  The burly man turned to the sobbing woman; her body wracked with grief and punched her.  There was a cracking noise and she moaned in pain, trying to touch her broken nose.  "Now, you stay there and watch your husband here die for bein' a hero.  Goodbye hero," Spike smiled, enjoying the pain wrought on the older man's face.  

The second man who had been standing off to the side leaned down and slapped the first wound from the bullet.  Hitomi's father howled a strangled, animal-like cry.  The blood-covered hand of the man touched Hitomi's face with the lightest of caresses.

"What the hell are you doing, Tad?" Spike snarled, lowering the gun an inch.  Tad just smiled.  

Hitomi could feel the bile in her throat as the frightening man, his toothy smile painful to see, spread her father's blood across her cheeks, over her eyes, and onto her lips.  "You like this, girl?  Or can you not even stand _your father's own blood_??"  Hitomi cried out, pulling away from him.  

"Fine," Tad said, pulling his own hidden gun.  Hitomi's father looked up at him, tiredly.  

"No, please… please spare… them…" his mouth was filled with blood, blood leaking from his leg wounds.  Tad smirked. 

"Girl doesn't like her own father's blood," he said, and shot the shivering man in the heart.

Hitomi's mother screamed and lunged desperately towards her husband's body.  Tad kicked the dead man obligingly at her.  "How could you, you _animals_?!"  she demanded. 

Tad's eyes narrowed.  "We ain't animals, lady, we're just appeasing the storm."  Spike stormed over to the woman and hauled her violently to her feet. 

"Listen, you.  You may think that his death was painful and worthless, but yours?  Yours is gonna be worse."  He lifted the gun in his hand upward and pressed it into her open mouth.  Hitomi's mother's eyes widened and she gagged.  "Yeah, that's it, bitch.  Try to survive _this_."  He pushed the barrel of the gun deeper, ignoring the painful tears and blood leaking from the corners of her mouth.  

"Stop!  Leave her alone, please, leave her alone!  Take anything, the whole house, just, please, don't hurt my mom!"  Hitomi shouted.  Her brother's face was still buried in the couch cushions, but she could hear him sobbing and see his little body shaking.  

"You want me to stop, whiny girl?  Fine.  You killed her!"  Spike's finger squeezed the trigger.  Hitomi's eyes shut and she felt the warm splatter of blood across her body at the sound of the report from the gun.  Her tears stained the red decorations on her clothing.  

"Hey, Spike, who's next?" the large Timmy asked.  "I wanna kill 'em!" 

Spike rolled his eyes in disgust at Timmy's request.  "Kill the blubbery one on the couch, I can't stand him crying."  Hitomi's eyes opened, the blood burning her eyes; her mother's blood, her father's blood.   The entire scene was surreal.  The rocking storm outside her home, her two parent's bodies laying before her, the brawny man moving slowly towards her weeping brother, buried among the couch pillows – none of this could be real, could be happening.  And yet, it was too true to be a simple dream.  

"Ngggh!" was all her brother managed as he was swept off the couch and into Timmy's arms.  Hitomi struggled against the ropes that were binding her, pulling and tugging with everything she possessed.  

"You still crying, boy?  Oh well.  You know what that means?"  Her little brother shook his head slowly, terrified.  The tears continued to fall, sliding down his nose and cheeks as he shivered in fear.  "That means Spike is unhappy.  And I always like Spike cheerful."  

"Ah…." her brother started, trying to pull away as Timmy's arms tightened on his own.  The man lifted the small boy up into the air, high above the floor, and dropped him.  The little child landed on his back, yelping in pain.  

"Look at you!  Makin' more noise!"  The heavy boot of the man came crashing down his left leg.  Hitomi could hear the sharp snap of the bones and screamed.  One of the unidentified men kicked her in the back of the head, sending her crashing into a pool of blood on the wooden floor.  Lightening snaked outside, the rain pounding in rhythm with her heartbeat.  

Her little brother was no longer screaming, just shaking from fear and pain, unable to formulate the noises to express the emotions within his tiny body.  

"Nighty night, boy," Timmy said and lifted a long, shiny knife from his belt.  Hitomi tried to leap towards them, tried to rip away the rope, but was trapped when the boot from the man behind her pinned her body onto the floor.  

"You ain't going nowhere girl," he murmured, hunching over and twisting her neck towards Timmy and her brother.  "But you're sure as hell gonna watch."  Hitomi gurgled a "no, please…" but wasn't understood or wasn't heard, for the man above her made no indication of hearing her.  

The long, curved knife flashed in the lightening from the windows and began to arch towards her squirming brother.  Hitomi's mouth opened in a desperate attempt to stop the world, stop everything, the cookie flashing again through her mind.  Her brother's scream and the sound of his ripping flesh as the weapon tore into his stomach; his legs; his throat, and then his silence, brought bile to her throat.  

Hitomi couldn't help it.  She threw up, her stomach convulsing with horror.  The man holding her down leaps away to avoid the mess.  Hitomi moaned, her face covered in blood and bile.  Her whimpers brought Tad's attention to her.

"Damn little boy died too fast.  Maybe you'll last longer, eh?"  He ripped the knife from Timmy's hand and started towards her.  She shrank away, dragging her skin across the smooth wood, trying to speak, to scream, to escape.  Spike caught her behind the arms and shoved her back down.  

"Give me the knife, Tad."

The other man tossed the weapon to Spike, who caught it with ease.  He sliced the ropes off Hitomi's arms and dug his boot into her neck to keep her against the ground. 

"I've been thinkin', girl.  You whine so much.  And there ain't much of a punishment for that around here.  So, we're gonna let you live.  Show you that REP ain't so bad after all.  Yes, but, of course, we're gonna leave you a little present so you can always remember how you got your family killed and you lived to tell, whiny girl," he smiled, a sick, slow grin.  

"Timmy, get your ass over here and hold the bitch down."

Timmy rushed to assist Spike, holding Hitomi in a prone position, her stomach pressed against the floorboards.  She wouldn't have fought anyway, the images of her bother's death was searing too painfully in her mind.  

Spike slashed off the back of her shirt, tossing it away.  Her soft back was exposed.  Hitomi's mind struggled to take control of her body, to move, to scream, to do something before she was murdered too.  

Spike took the knife and pressed it against Hitomi's skin.  The moment it pierced her flesh, Hitomi's back arched, her neck lifted, and a horrible sound wrenched itself from somewhere deep within her body.  Shock showed on Timmy's face, but he held her down.  Spike continued carving, digging, sculpting, calmly ignoring her ungodly noises.  

Forever passed and returned while she lay there, sobbing, the knife slicing her back into shreds.  The scorching aches issuing from her skin took over her mind and body and left her useless, unable to do anything but scream.  Her scream became continuous, it had a mind of its own, twisting out the windows, fighting away the storm, angrily beating against the people that held her down, destroyed her and her family.  It crawled upward, coiling like a serpent.  Timmy was leaning from her, trying to get away from the noises, but each time he strayed too far, Spike would snap at him.

Finally, the knife lifted and Spike kicked her onto the body of her mother.  Hitomi's scream changed in pitch, turning into horror and anguish.  She threw up again as she scuttled backwards.  Tad caught her by the hair and held a mirror to her back, reflecting it off the one in the front hallway.  It was hard to see, but Hitomi could make out the three-pronged claw etched in her skin, blood dripping slowly from the wound.  

"Have fun with your new tattoo, girl," Tad snapped, and threw her close by the bodies the REP had piled up.  Hitomi lay on the floor and sobbed.  Spike waved to her.

"Goodbye, thanks for all the goodies," he spat and kicked the door open.  An unwary or vindictive member trod over her back, over the newly formed wound and laughed as her animalistic scream returned, tearing out of her lungs and filling the house.  Tears soaked the floor below her, and the scream was interrupted with hiccupping sobs.  Tad laughed and kicked her side once more before vanishing out the door.  The other REP members soon followed and Hitomi was left alone, broken, shattered, on the floor, her family dead.  Gone… 

Her clothing was drenched in blood, her eyes shaded by the red.  Her house was no longer her home.  And she could only think of the cookie, the one she decorated herself, that must be crushed by now, in her back pocket.  The one that was for her brother… the boy lying dead before her.

The scream rose again, more vicious, angry, thrashing to escape.

*** 

**Author's Notes:**  I hope you only read that if you could stomach it.  Please review, if you feel so inclined, and give me any feedback possible.  This was the first truly violent thing I've written, and I'm curious to see the reaction from it.  Thank you. 

E-mail me if you would like to be notified each time the story is updated at catwinner@earthlink.net.  

**Summary:  **

            Hitomi arrives home and is yanked inside by a strange person, who quickly identifies himself as a member of the REP.  Her family is tied up on the couch.  There are several men in the house, robbing it.  They choose to kill her family to "feed" the storm outside.  Her father is killed first as he begs for Hitomi's life to be spared.  He is shot once in each leg, and again in the head.  Hitomi is smeared with her father's blood just before he dies by a REP member.  Her mother is killed next because of the complaints she puts forth at seeing her husband die.  She is choked on the gun of the leader, then shot (while the gun is still in her mouth.)  Her brother is next.  He is stabbed in the stomach several times, then in the throat.  He dies very quickly.  Hitomi is held down by the REP and their insignia is cut into her back by the leader.  (Three-pronged claw)  She screams like a banshee, an unearthly, horrifying scream.  The REP leave her in her own blood and bile, making off with many of her precious possessions, her family in a pile beside her.  End of chapter.

**Angel-wings-131: **Yes, the world is indeed against her, isn't it?  Don't worry, happy ending is in store.  In a long while.  But it is coming!  

**ReddAlice: **Thanks, I hope this was decently "fast" in coming out.  Let me know how you like it!

**PurpleSmurf: **What flattering comments!  I hope this new chapter is up to par with your expectations.  :)


	5. The Sign of Hope

Shattered

The Sign of Hope

The rain pounded on the roof, singing in a sad, desolate tone. The water ran in rivers across the green grass towards the street. The signs dotting the side of the road could not be seen, so heavy was the torrential rainfall and so fierce the wind. A branch snapped somewhere, crumbling into the dirt below. The sky was a dismal shade of black, threatening in its roiling clouds and angry thunderclaps. Lightning was the only guide, brief flashes of color that lit the sky and faded into dark.

The water trickled down the roof, racing against itself to reach the ground. Streaked by rain, the windows offered no sanctuary from the bloody reflection of the home. A small figure lay shivering in the corner, screaming with grief and sobbing with pain. Fear coated the furniture, the bodies heaped in the center of the room. They were mangled creatures, twisted, murdered in cold blood. Hitomi desperately tried to avoid seeing them, afraid, so afraid of her life.

She slowly lifted her hands to her eyes, the hands that had been clutching her aching sides and watched blood drip from her long fingers. It slowly fell to the floor, splashing upwards and settling into an ever-growing puddle beneath her. She tore her gaze away from it, but could still feel it soaking into her clothing, into her very skin. Her body refused to stop trembling; she could no longer control herself, lying bent and crooked in the corner of the house she once loved.

She could smell her brother's and parents' dead bodies. Her stomach churned and she threw up again, crying loudly as her body complained from the cramping the sight inflicted. She felt an animal tearing to escape from her and released it, screaming into the storm. The rain fell harder; thunder tossed back its mighty head and answered her, roaring louder than hundreds of lions.

As soon as she opened her mouth, blood dripped from her hair and cheeks onto her tongue. She threw herself against a wall, desperate to escape the metallic taste. The feeling, the sharpness drove her mad. She wanted to die, wanted to escape. Slowly, the red tickled her throat and inched downward. She sent up her calls again, and retched under the window as lightning sparked outside.

The puddle of blood was swelling around her, wide as an ocean, waves washing up against her flesh. Hitomi whimpered, but could not forge through it. Her body was giving up, laying slowly down into the shock, thanking the bleakness coming to take over her mind. A shroud of darkness was playing at the corner of her eyelids, inviting her to rest and forget about everything that happened. She fought against it, unsure why it was so important to stay awake, but knowing, somehow, she couldn't give in.

She struggled to sit up and reach the door. Desperately, a part of her was trying to let the rain in, let the rain wash away all the death. If only she could lift her dying body upwards… if only she could reach the handle, let the clean water wipe away her memories. Hitomi wanted to drown in the storm. Drown and forget.

All the way home, she fought. The storm, the icy wind, the hungry rain, she hadn't given into the desire to lie down and rest. The only thing on her mind was her family. Rushing back to give the cookie she made to her brother to comfort him during the storm. Helping her mother with dinner, throwing a carrot or two at her brother, who would be watching television. Letting her father tease her about work and offer her a job at his place again. But, no, she would always be independent… always self-sufficient.

And now, always alone.

Her lips parted again, voice rising in another scream. She didn't even recognize the cries. When it finally registered to be her voice, Hitomi winced and fell back to the floor. The scream was unbroken. The cuts on her back flared at the sudden impact on the wood, and tears soaked her cheeks. Hitomi laid perfectly still, waiting for that hurtful throb to lift her into senselessness. Or, better yet, into death. But it didn't come. The painful sting in her back continued unabated, but it was nothing compared to the splitting ache of her heart.

She was startled out of her reverie by bodies bursting into the door. At first, she thought – indeed, hoped – they were REP, coming to finish the job, destroy her. But these men wore uniforms of blue and gold and carried guns and flashlights. Her brain did not note that they were police and paramedics. She only knew they were alive. Her arms reached for one, but when she looked, the heavy body parts did not move. Blood dripped over her eyes, forcing them shut.

"Oh God…" a man said, dressed in a police uniform. He stumbled away, leaving behind his two companions. He fell out the doorway, whimpering like a small puppy. The remaining men exchanged looks when they heard the man retching and crying outside the door. Both had seen the bodies already, and, finally, one caught sight of Hitomi, who had quieted the moment the men burst into the house.

"Dear Lord, they left one alive. John, get over here!" he snapped at his friend, though John did not need urging. "I'm going after him," he said, pointing out the door. John nodded and bent at Hitomi's side.

"Hey, there, hon, relax. I'm here to help. Good guy. Show me what's hurt. If you can."

Hitomi tried to talk, she really tried. But each time her mouth opened, blood poured in and clogged her throat. The man had a gentle touch and looked her over. He lifted her shirt and glanced at her back. Her brain barely registered his gasp.

"Sweet Jesus… What did they _do _to you?" his hand dug in his bag for a compress to halt the bleeding. He murmured to himself as he worked. "Why haven't you fainted yet? The loss of blood… Jesus."

The younger man returned, without the other. When John glanced up, he shook his head. John could hear the other sobbing outside still.

"Uh… Take a look at the others, Dennis. Maybe…?" John said. Dennis nodded calmly and looked over the others. His expression turned from a professional one, to utter horror as his eyes settled again on the bodies. This was his first good look at the torn, mutilated flesh. One – a woman, he thought – was missing most of her face. She was lying on the top of the pile. Next to her was a little boy. His body still oozed blood from dozens of wounds. Underneath him, barely visible, was an older, taller man. _Must be the father…_ Dennis thought, unsettled. _The whole family… God, who would do such a thing?_

"No," he finally said to John. The man looked at him with sorrow but asked no other questions. A moment later his attention was back on the young girl curled around his feet.

John nodded to himself and began whispering encouragements to Hitomi. He wasn't sure if the girl could hear him, but he had to keep trying to get through to her. It was best if they kept her alert until the other paramedics carried her to the ambulance. She had some chance of survival if she kept fighting like this.

He lifted the cool compress to Hitomi's back, still speaking low and unhurried. John pressed it gently against her skin and was shocked by what the water cleaned away.

"Oh no… Dennis, look at these cuts…" he said, frightened. Dennis walked over to the shivering girl, followed closely by another policeman. The third man was scribbling all over a notebook, hurriedly trying to make notes of the entire crime. John's finger stabbed at the bloody crisscrosses decorating Hitomi's lower back. He carefully wiped away the red rivers, and both the policeman and Dennis gasped.

"That's…" the notebook threatened to fall to the floor.

"REP. Shit."

"Yeah… What… should I do?" John asked haltingly.

Dennis shook his head back and forth, clearing his brain. "It's said that every REP member keeps a bloody knife… Doesn't clean the blood off, you know? Because… damn it…" he closed his eyes, relieving himself of the picture before him. "Because it shows how many 'conquests' they've had. We need to clean up that cut."

John nodded slowly and lifted a special antiseptic. He poured it onto the cloth and lifted it again to her back. "This may hurt, ma'am. I want you to breathe, slowly, and just relax. Everything will be okay." He pressed the mixture against her injury.

Hitomi dimly noted someone or something had come to her and was digging about her wound. Those cuts. She screamed again, fearsome, afraid, and lifted an arm, the heaviest limb of the all, and crashed it against the face of the monster behind her. She heard a grunt and tried to scramble away. Her body lifted, then crumpled to the floor, helpless.

"Oh, _shit_. John, you okay?" Dennis quickly attended to his partner, leaving Hitomi alone a moment.

She felt a burning in her throat and choked, gasping, hands clutching the bloodied skin. The darkness blurring her vision danced away and illuminated the bodies of her mother, father, and brother, lying together, dead. She tried to cry out to them, reach for their empty shells, but couldn't muster the strength.

The men around her were focused on John and his bleeding face. Hitomi was whimpering, fighting against the darkness that nipped at her sanity. Her uncertainty at holding onto her ruined consciousness, as if she were waiting for some kind of sign, was answered. As the black descended around her, hungry for her life, Hitomi saw it. A feather drifted slowly from the ceiling. Her body called to the gentle creature, recognizing it somewhere in her heart. The feather dropped to her hand, white, shining, and pure, as if from an angel's back. Her deadened fingers closed over it, trembling, and the dainty object cleared the blood away from her hand.

Dennis stared at Hitomi after ascertaining that John's nose was not broken. "Look, there," he whispered. John, clutching his bleeding nose, glanced at the girl. He searched her crippled body for a moment, his eyes finally landing on the feather. His head snapped back when he noticed what astounded Dennis. Hitomi bordered on unconsciousness, hardly recognizing the men where still standing around her.

"No… blood?" John said in a hushed manner.

"None…" Dennis agreed in the same quieted voice.

Others entered the room and made their ways to Hitomi. Her body was gently lifted into the air. Onto a board, though she couldn't tell. They were whispering among themselves, terrified. Some tried not to touch her, though their job forced them to. Many of them stared at John, who was still cradling his smashed nose, seated on the floor in the blood. They carefully strapped her down onto the uncomfortable wood, adjusting her head between the pillowed supports. No matter how delicate they were, no move they made didn't hurt her battered body.

As she was gently arranged Hitomi's lips parted, begging for air, searching for some repose from her suffering. A technician waved over the oxygen mask. As the plastic sides gently touched her face Hitomi's voice squeezed out a thin, frightened yelp. The men exchanged startled looks.

As they finished the last adjustments on the straps, a finger brushed her oozing wound. Tears welled up in the eyes that were unfocused on the ceiling. A technician slapped the hand that touched her, snapping loudly at him. Another one shook his head at the noise and carefully arranged a strap over her back. She whimpered.

"She can obviously still feel the pain," a small man noted.

The only woman on the team shot him a look.

"What? Look at her! She's dead, anyway."

The others looked up when the woman struck him, hard. She forced him out of the house, much to the astonishment of her colleagues. She stared at the others, waiting for a challenge, but they all shrunk back. Hitomi's dulled brain recognized nothing but the slight warmth from the feather she clutched still.

The medics lifted the board and her and moved slowly towards the door. The rain was still hissing outside, but the wind had abated enough to allow free movement. Hitomi's eyes saw the man who had fled her home shivering next to the door. He let out a short, anguished cry when he saw her body inching down the stairs. She wished to reach to him, comfort him, but the only comfort for her was in the stillness.

The cold rain washed over her. The paramedics crept towards the ambulance, a white vehicle, lights off for the moment, siren silenced. The words "We Care! Hospice" were painted neatly on the door.

Several people were staring, now. Neighbors out in the rain, policemen, a second ambulance – none of them would spare her.

"Something about this… what is it?" asked one man. A medic, trying to ignore him, felt the same uncertainty.

"Oh God! The rain!" shouted a policeman. The others stared, and, slowly, their cries joined the officer's. The soaking rain was not washing away the blood that decorated the delicate face of the girl. Instead, each tiny drop added another red streak to the brutalized Hitomi. A medic dropped a corner of the board in shock. Dennis, walking with John to the other ambulance, watched in horror as Hitomi's body jolted against the cement. Her fingers clenched around the feather, her wracked brain despondently trying to ignore the fresh signals of pain.

The young woman who had cast the other medic out of the house took up the frightened man's place. She lifted the board with no words and guided it gently towards the ambulance. The other carrier refused to look at Hitomi or the woman, staring, steadfast, at her destination.

Getting her body into the ambulance was a bit trickier than was necessary. The splashes from the bloody rain splattered onto anyone lifting Hitomi's body into the vehicle, deterring all but the woman. Unable to lift the board on her own, she cursed at her companions, begging for their assistance. When a civilian stepped past the long rows of police tape, no one spoke. The man hoisted the board on his shoulder and let others balance and adjust her, to avoid the aggravation of her wounds. When she was safely inside, he simply walked away.

Out of the rain, the blood no longer rained down upon her body, and the others felt comfortable enough to cover her and fix the oxygen mask securely over her mouth and nose. The ambulance jolted forward, but Hitomi did not notice, could feel nearly nothing. Suddenly, a warm rush of wind encircled her, whispered through her veins. Her eyes opened wide, mouth gasping for breath. It felt so sweet, so calming. She relinquished her body to the darkness immediately afterwards. The shadowy curtain closed over her eyes seconds later and left her in cool, forgiving darkness.

The paramedics in the ambulance stared. The feather in her fingers had shivered back and forth in some unseen wind and every drop of blood – from the house, from her wound, from the rain – vanished. The air sparkled and every trace of the blood was gone. Even the young woman, who had shown so much bravery before, pressed herself against the back of the ambulance, shaking her head. The two other medics with her looked into her eyes, fear prevalent in every swallow.

In a whisper, the woman asked her companions, "where did it all go…?"

**Author's Notes:** Well… Here we go. The next chapter will have Van in it, so, for all those you of who are anxiously awaiting his arrival – he's coming! For those of you who don't know, a hospice is a place where people are taken when doctors are sure of their deaths – as in: it's only a matter of time. Please don't believe I'm insensitive while I write these explanations. My grandfather recently went to a Hospice and did not come out. Please, any reviews would be greatly appreciated. If you want to be added to the mailing list and hear when each new chapter comes out, please e-mail me at catwinner earthlink.net.

For all those of you who noticed the chapter was posted twice, I'm sorry, but I couldn't fix it until I had a new chapter to upload. My apologies. Fixed now, though!

**ReddAlice: **Thank you for reviewing so many of my chapters. : ) You give excellent criticisms. I tried to make the gang seem like any other. It's because REP stands for Random-Evil-People. I know, I'm an idiot. Still, REP – menacing acronym at least, eh?

**Skittles: **Well, here's the beginning of Hitomi's new life. It should get more less violent and more focused on Hitomi's healing. If one can really heal after such a tragedy…

**Sereia: **First of all, I love your name. Secondly, I loved your comments. I hope everything I'm writing is still living up to your expectations.

**SabineballZ**: Van's coming! :D

**Purplesmurf: **Thanks again for reviewing, I hope your still enjoying the story!


	6. Bloody Beginnings: Fanelia Healed

Shattered

Bloody Beginnings: Fanelia Healed

The first streak of sun bit the edge of the gentle slopes. Goat-like creatures leapt towards the signs of morning, eager for the warmth. A light fog tickled their bodies. The clouds above the peaks reflected a delicate pink, breaking apart. Flowers stretched and opened their petals for food. Birds struck a tuneless song, dancing among the sun's rays, their soft feathers drifting to the ground.

Van Fanel watched the morning unfolding much as he watched anything – hungrily, willing the brightness to become a part of him. A small bird, yellow and brown, landed near him, chattering its welcome. Van's smile and outstretched hand earned him a scolding as the bird fluttered back to its companions. He leaned back, his arms folded behind his head, lazily chewing a thin blade of grass. The sun continued its climb, spilling its golden hands down the hill, across his lithe body, and towards the city below.

From Van's position, he could not see Fanelia, though he knew it was just below him. The city, once beautiful and elegant, was burned to the ground by Dilandau. Van had returned to this place, his home, and taken his place as king. Even with such dedicated subjects, rebuilding Fanelia to achieve greater glory than before it burned was no simple task. The five-year anniversary was upon them, today. Five years since the girl from the Mystic Moon had vanished. Five years since the rebuilding had begun.

A smile tugged his lips as Van remembered Hitomi. She had been so fond of this place… and of him. He once wondered if things could have turned out differently. If she were still here, would he have a queen, perhaps children? Now, Van's thoughts flickered through memories, already fading. He couldn't forget his mystical Hitomi, but no longer could he quite recall the way her lips perked up in a smile or that mischievous glint in her eyes that always meant trouble.

"Sir… King Van, sir…" a voice rumbled beside him. Van sat up and greeted the guard puffing up the steep hill. The man was dressed in his decorative armor, catching the rising sun and shattering it in hundreds of directions. Van blinked at his mirrored appearance and carefully shaded his eyes.

"Yes, friend?" he asked. The guard halted, happy to rest, and grinned. It was common for Van to address his people, the guards, everyone, as "friend." The kingdom found a surprising amount of respect for such a king and Van unknowingly won over many peasants with his easy manner and boyish smile.

"King Van, your advisors have sent me to request you prepare for the ceremonies this afternoon, sire," the man said and waved a hand behind him. "I have prepared your horse… he's waiting below the hill."

Van smirked knowingly. "How long did it take you to catch the creature?" he asked, good-naturedly. The guard simply shrugged, obviously eager to return to the festivities. Van shrugged and stood up. "Well, then, off you go, friend. Tell them I'm on my way." The guard nodded and began sliding down the slope. Van paused a moment, then turned away from Fanelia and the guard, and climbed higher. The dewy grass gave no support, but he hardly minded. He slid down the other side of a peak, shielded from the city's eyes and looked out over the forests and plains before him. Far in the distance, he could see another city.

Lifting his face to the sun, he drank in the morning, stretching his arms to either side. Then, he quickly tossed his shirt onto a worn rock and released his hold on his wings. They burst from his back, feathers drifting off towards the city in the distance.

"Much better," Van whispered to himself, shaking his wings out and reaching towards the clouds with his arms. He found his wings were more and more difficult to contain, his mental barriers requiring almost constant attention. If he freed them often enough, here, there was no problem. Van relaxed and collapsed on the grass with a joyful sigh. He heard the crunching of feet on gravel behind him and scrambled back up, willing his wings away.

By the time his advisor crested the hill, he was brushing himself off and slipping down the crest. The man squinted at him.

"Noon is not so far from morning as you may believe, King Van," he said. Van snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Don't be philosophical, Milan. I've got too much to prepare for!" he grinned and bounced down the steep slope, to a stake in the ground. "Aw…" he grumbled. Milan stumbled next to him, shooting Van a rude look and pointing towards two brown horses.

"I expected that beast of yours to have run off again. I sent a few guards around to capture him. Now, King Van, you must return to the castle and prepare for the ceremonies, noon is just hours away and…" Milan halted as Van's hand waved in his face.

"Milan, I'll be there, on time. After all, it's _my _kingdom."

Milan blinked slowly, heading towards his animal. "Fine, my friend. I expect you are going after that horse of yours."

Van nodded, "What else can I do?" he said helplessly. Milan rolled his eyes and urged the horses away, back to the city. "What else can I do?" Van said again, softly now. 

* * *

The light poured through the stained glass, coloring the faces of the gentlemen that sat around Van. He was dressed in crushed velvet, red and blue, a long sweeping cape of golden red, and a tunic, with its lovely matching leggings, of blue silk. His crown was heavy with expensive jewels and gold, blindingly bright in the afternoon light.

He couldn't stand it.

Van shifted uncomfortably around, trying to unstuck the silk from his body. It was hot in this closed room, with no opening windows and tightly locked doors. Sweat was dripping off his neck and back, the crown slipping down his forehead every three seconds. The other nobles around him – from Fanelia, the donors, and men from other cities who were interested in the boy king's job of rebuilding the place – looked cool and relaxed in their own thick, stuffy clothing. The unveiling ceremony for the public had taken place moments ago, the crowd leaping in the air, cheering, as Van swept a hand back and announced that the great city of Fanelia was finally back to what it was meant to be.

And, now, after escaping the hot sun, Van was trapped with these pudgy men who came to see what kind of investments they could make in this "new" place, or, if they had already footed much of the bill for the rebuilding, what sort of compensation they could receive. Van hated the idea of money almost as much as he hated holding this kind of meeting.

"King Van, sir, if I may… Your royal coffers must be empty after such extensive renovations. I would suggest, well… we all would suggest giving land, or perhaps titles, to those men that you deem worthy."

Van tried not to gag.

The other men in the room voiced their opinions to, not really talking to Van, but more to Milan and the other advisors that sat besides him. They were wearing plain, thin robes. No fancy capes or heavy velvet. One of them had a bit of satin in his hand – he was stroking it. But it was the only finery in sight among them. Van envied the mousy-looking man with the satin. He ached to be in a cool robe like that, fiddling with something soft, that didn't really matter.

Another man was whining about his financial situation. Van had been sure he repaid the men all ready. In fact, the only thing these men had _really _done was send people to fix up homes and build shops. There were no real donations from this group… unless they expected something out of it.

"_Van!_" hissed Milan, elbowing his king in the side. Van hardly felt it through the layers and layers of clothing he was wearing. He cleared his throat, drawing the eyes of all the men in the room on him. Milan was probably annoyed with his dozing off, but Van was sick of this meeting.

"Gentlemen…" he started, noting with satisfaction the number of nobles that had long titles stiffen as he skipped over the formality. "You need no compensation from me, of course. As I have heard, you did everything for this city, this beautiful Fanelia, out of your own hearts. However, Fanelia will have very prosperous marketplaces, so I suggest, if you are in need of money, heaven forbid, you start there," Van tried to stand here, but was held down by Milan's angered eyes.

He sighed. "Of course, I can't let your kindness go from my notice. You'll all be rewarded monetarily. Equally. Milan will draw up agreements for us to pay you as soon as the coffers fill again." Milan looked satisfied now, and Van thought it was time to leave. Then the men started talking again, about how much money it was, or whether they should get a title too. Van groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

As his eyes lingered on an elaborate stained glass piece situated above him, a scream began to echo in his head. His eyes widened and he tries to shake it out, but only succeeded in knocking his crown to the ground. It clatters onto the stone floor and rolls around, throwing light crazily in every direction. All the noblemen are staring at him now. Van's fingers clutched his hair and he squeezed his eyes shut. The scream stopped.

He gasped and slowly lifted his head, opening his eyes on the started faces of the men surrounding him. A moment later he bit his lip, hard, drawing blood. A fearsome pain was tearing at his lower back, like a claw of some terrific beast was tearing him apart. He couldn't hold back the cry that burst from him, causing several of the men to leap up. Van doubled over and his head cracked on the heavy wooden table. He moaned, but now the pain was gradually ebbing.

And then, for just a moment, it returned, harder, more painful than ever, blinding Van. He opened his mouth to scream, cry for help, _something, _but was immediately choked off by something thick, something warm, sliding down his throat. His eyes flew open, shock overriding his pain momentarily. His clothes, his skin, everything, drenched in red blood. It was not his own. Van's head snapped up as the pain returned, his eyes searching for the source of the blood. Above him was a shimmering picture of a place that was not Fanelia, but it was only there for a moment. Blood poured over his eyes again, then the picture vanished and the pain was gone and Van stood before the noblemen and his advisors, painted with blood that was not his own. He felt a painful burning on his chest as he struggled to his feet.

As he stood, it seemed to unfreeze everyone in the room. Screams began to fill the air as the fat men tumbled over each other, pounding against the locked doors. Even Milan, Van's most trusted advisor, was fleeing in horror. The doors exploded open, knocking down men, sending them sprawling onto the floor, and guards rushed in, brave, excited. When they saw Van, their sweet king, staggering to his feet, covered in blood, their eyes widened. One shouted in pain, that the king was dying, who had killed the king of Fanelia?

Among the confusion, several of the fallen on the stone felt boots tread over them. One of the advisors was stabbed in the leg, though he would survive, and all Van could think of was getting away from this insane mess. He let go of every shred of pretense and his leapt onto the table. His legs carried him high enough from the table to give himself a lift. The stained glass window shattered and speckled the people below with glass as Van's wings carried him away.

He flew towards the river, the only place he could picture in his mind now. The cool water rushed up at him when he could no longer hold himself in the air. When he hit the surface of the calm river, his wings vanished in the shock of cold, and the blood was whisked away.

Gasping, Van pulled himself to the muddy bank and collapsed. He pulled off the heavy velvet, the tangled cape, the reasons his wings could hardly support him. And then he ripped his tunic, struggling to get to the burning, the pain, that was searing him. As his fingers closed around the source, Van realized it was his pendent, that beautiful mystical object from Hitomi. He lifted up, ignoring the biting pain it caused. 

It hurt to look at. The pendent was glowing brightly, sparkling and flashing, _burning_. Van dropped it back on his clothes and looked up towards the sky. He wasn't sure what this meant, but the blood and the frightening way the pendent was behaving reminded him of those days… when Fanelia was burned to the ground by the fire, the fire that blazed just as this pendent was. Those were the days when Hitomi wore the pendent, when they could call to each other with their minds, when…

Van heaved himself off the ground and began running back towards his home, his castle. He had to reassure his advisors he was alive… then… then…

His long fingers closed around the pendent bouncing on his chest as he left behind the river and his hated clothing. _Something has happened to Hitomi._ And he'd be damned if he wouldn't be there to catch her as she fell.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Wow, so, are we excited yet? Van can "sense" something is wrong, eh? Nothing like the blatant blood-falling-from-the-sky to convince you something's up with your girl. Anyway… I hope this chapter wasn't such a long wait. School's starting in a week. Last year of high school. Three AP courses, and honors math. So… I'll try to keep updating. Keep on my back. :D Reviews will be worshiped!

If you would like to be notified when each new chapter comes out, please e-mail me at catwinner earthlink .net and ask to be added to the mailing list for Shattered.

**Skittles1: **Aw, thanks for the sweet comment. This chapter actually came out much easier. Only took two sittings. Good sign I hope? : )

**Secret2u: **Here's Van! Enjoy… there will be no lack of him in the next bazillion chapters. : )

**Purplesmurf****: **First of all, you keep commenting with my author name. :X Watch it, you. (Anyone else who's reading this, I know him, it's all good.) But, otherwise, thanks for the comments! :D


	7. The Mystic Moon

Shattered

The Mystic Moon

Van found Milan waiting for him when he returned. His beautiful, heavy finery abandoned by the river, streaks of blood remaining across his body, clutching his chest, desperate for a breath, Van made quite the picture. Milan, ever the calm and trustworthy advisor, forced Van into the bath drawn for him before Van had a chance to pause and catch his breath.

With no hesitation, Van dunked himself under the water, then scrambled out of the tub, pulling on his simple, loose clothing he kept for lazy summer afternoons. Milan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Van strapped his sword tightly around his waist and scribbled a note to the people of Fanelia. He finally turned to face his advisor.

"Milan, the blood was from the Mystic Moon. Hitomi is in some kind of trouble. I'm going to her," he quickly stated, handing the letter to Milan. The advisor shook his head, but made no move to halt Van's actions. Instead he bowed and nodded as Van snatched the pendant and squeezed his eyes closed.

"I wish you all the luck in both worlds, my young King."

Van could not think of what this new Hitomi – five years older – may look like. He guessed something, adding a few lines to his dim mental picture and prayed the pendant would know where to find her. In an instant, he heard Milan speak and felt himself being lifted upwards. He drifted through the ceiling as if a ghost in a pillar of blinding light, keeping his eyes shut tightly. Fear coursed through his system, the only reassurance that he may be able to return with the pendant, if it brought him anywhere incorrect.

His feet hit solid ground and his ears exploded with the painful sound of Tokyo's city life. His eyes burst open and were assaulted with vehicles shouldering past each other on the road, huge castles standing next to each other, looming so high they pierced the clouds and continued upward. People that looked somewhat like him, knocked him back and forth as they rushed to destinations unknown to the king. Van stared and rubbed his ears as a vehicle shot by, booming and rumbling with strange music in a language he could not comprehend.

The monstrous carriages emitted high-pitched honks and squeaks as they shifted up and down the hardened… was that even dirt? Van did not dare to get nearer the dangerous-looking road where the vehicles moved faster than any war contraption he could imagine. With fear, he turned his gaze higher, the never-ending buildings, flashing signs, stink of the street, and brightness paining his eyes. Everywhere around him smelt of food and smoke, lying thickly in his nose. Van pawed at the sensation, terrified and emboldened at once. Hitomi lived in this world and had entered his with little difficultly – though, admittedly, his world was much simpler. If she could do it, so could he.

Van turned with determination to begin his search for his once-love and ran into a man laden with papers. They fluttered into the air, the man began babbling angrily, and Van fled, fast, down the paved sidewalk. The cement thudded dully under his boots, sounding unlike the cobblestone streets he was accustomed to.

A young lady stared into a brightly lit window where garments – appearing to be the type Hitomi wore when she first came to Fanelia – hung, gaudily lit. He skidded to a halt in front of her, lifting his hands into the air, ducking his head sheepishly; he hoped his nature was not threatening, but supplicating, begging.

The girl responded as she would to a little lost puppy, immediately starting to speak in that strange manner that Van had noted in the paper man. He shook his head and calmly asked the girl, who was obviously willing to help him: "Do you know where I can find Ms. Hitomi Kanzaki?"

The young lady blinked and stepped back, her own head tilting and bobbing with something akin to fear. Her hands squeezed the bag around her shoulder and she bumped the glass covering the display behind her, saying things Van did not understand. He left her there, trembling, certain that his sword probably frightened her.

And then, a man, his own age perhaps. Van approached him fast, pressing against his shoulder with a hand in a friendly, manly gesture that earned a yelp of surprise. He apologized and quickly begged for any news of his Hitomi. The man's surprise turned to fear and he swung at Van, who leapt backwards, unwilling to fight, cracking into an elderly woman who responded with a painful kick to his shin.

Terrified, Van stumbled through the crowd, hearing the shouts of his would-be pursuers. He caught sight of a stand of trees – a forest, oh thank heavens – and rushed into it. The mid-day shoppers raised eyebrows and shrugged as the man tumbled into the park. Happily they went on their way, unaware of Van's plight.

Van lay down on the cool grass, still within his woods – which turned out to be nearly nothing. He tried to think, but the noise of the city – the shouting, crying, honking – was driving him nearly out of his mind. He began to whisper to himself, hoping that voicing his problems aloud would offer a solution and a sanctuary.

"What _is _this place… why did those people…" and then, the answer he had wanted struck him forcefully. He rolled his eyes up into his head and groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. _These people couldn't understand his language_ – they spoke an entirely different dialect!

With that unreassuring realization, Van moaned, the sound muffled in his palms.

"But then…" he mumbled, "How could Hitomi understand me… Hell, how could I understand her?" He dropped his hands to his chest, fingering the pendant. Something between them… they must have some kind of connection he did not understand.

Slowly Van pulled himself into a sitting position, realizing he was already learning to tune out the busy noise of this place and focus on comforting, familiar sights and sounds.

The trees around him were tall and thick, isolated from the rest of the world by bushes clumped haphazardly throughout the stand. Birds sat on the branches overhead, chattering to each other, calm in this mad place.

Van munched a blade of grass, trying to regain his senses and ascertain his location. The pendant could have brought him anywhere a girl that resembled his idea of Hitomi lived. The king shook his head. No, certainly if the connection was so strong between the two of them that blood from her world could enter his, the pendant would not fail to bring him to her. His fingers traced its outline, his breathing leveling, his eyes searching into the sky.

Above him, planes passed by and a squirrel leapt from one tree to another. Birds dipped and circled, concentrating on something Van did not bother to wonder about. He stood and brushed himself off, gently tightening his sword, rubbing its hilt for reassurance.

He breathed deeply, calmer, and stepped back out into the crazed world.

Nothing greeted him. Well, nothing he expected, at least. No mob chasing him, no hysterical women. He glanced left toward a large and pretty pond, cherry blossom trees shading young mothers and their children, joggers, and the peaceful considering the water. To his right was a small building frequented by women. He could smell it from here, and so inched forward, away from it. On a path that resembled cobblestones, but was made from the same material as the sidewalk, Van continued slipping forward, trying to relax and blend in with the regulars of this... enchanted place.

He walked around a bend in the path and saw a man rolling around on a bench, snorting and shifting under a pile of the same papers the man Van had bumped into carried. Van immediately walked toward him, as if some instinct had seized him and whispered that this was the correct path.

Reaching the man, Van could not help but recoil. The stink from this… creature was horrendous, putrid. Clapping a hand over his nose, the king leaned closer, eager to discover what pulled him toward this poor man and escape.

And there it was. Just there. Van's voice slithered into a mangled cry and he feel to his knees, grabbing this man's blankets, shock petrifying him.

The cover was red, so red. A young girl, on a stretcher – Hitomi. Her eyes were wide with pain, beautifully green, like emeralds, full of crystal tears and acute pain. Her long hair – when had it become long? – scattered across the cover like rows of golden thread. Van whimpered at the patches of blood on her skin and the begging look on her face – accusing him of not being here in this moment, when she needed him the most.

His eyes skimmed the rest of the page. He could not understand the words marching across in neat little rows and columns, but the chilling paintings illustrated something horrible well enough for him. A picture of a lump, darkly shaded with red, hard to see. Van squinted at it, gagged when he realized it was a pile of bodies – perhaps Hitomi's family or friends, he did not know. Then a pretty little house, the inside walls splattered with blood and gore, comfortable furniture never to beckon to any again. The outside of the home, covered with yellow tape – words he could not understand decorating it – strange men dressed in blue uniforms peering around.

Again and again his eyes were drawn to Hitomi, his darling Hitomi. The more he stared into her photographed eyes, the more he could see the fear in them. And such pain! Such pain Van never knew she was capable of. The paper shook in his hand as he choked on tears. That his Hitomi, that beautiful girl he was once in love with, the girl who had saved his world, should suffer something like this… death, murder, a rampage of destruction… Van could not guess from the grotesque pictures.

A grunt distracted Van from his grief. A hand landed heavily on Hitomi's picture, ripping into her frightened doe eyes. Van let the paper drift away from him, scrambling backwards, tears blurring his eyes.

As his sight cleared, he saw the smelly man who had been sleeping under Hitomi's anguish stand off the bench and cough into his elbow. He bent to pick up the newspaper and Van lunged, desperate to keep his only link to Hitomi in his possession. The man snarled and swatted at Van.

"Listen, you punk, these mah blankets, screw off."

Van did not understand a word out of the man's mouth, but took it as threatening. Still, he did not cease the angry fight for the paper, scratching the man's fingers with his own, hungrily trying to capture her picture.

"What the hell, you little brat. My papers, damn you. Rich little… git yer own!" At this, the homeless man, worn from years on the street, fighting for his property, pushed Van away and crumpled the paper into his hand. Van watched as Hitomi's bloody face was wrinkled and vanished behind this disgusting man.

"Yeah, ya little punk. Mine! Shoo!"

Van, still uncertain of the situation, dug in his pocket for money to bribe him, trying to restrain for a fight in this peaceful place. But his desperation was endless when he discovered not a single penny on his person. The man laughed wickedly, a sound Van understood very well.

"Heartless creature! Would you keep me from saving one of your own people, one who needs me now? I'm the only one who can help her and I beg of you to give me the painting of her so I might continue my search. Please!" Van moaned and landed on his knees, hands open in supplication.

The homeless man was taken aback by the strange language Van spoke. Because not a word was understandable, the man simply gathered his blankets to his chest, including the one Van wanted, and stepped away.

"Not gitting these, you!" he said, and moved quickly to escape.

Van shouted for the man to stop and resorted to the last vestige of hope. His hand wrapped around the hilt of the Fanelian sword and freed it from the scabbard. He took a simple battle pose, feinting at the man.

The action happened so fast, the wandering soul howled in fright, dropping every bit of paper he had. Van rushed toward him, sending the man away screeching "Madman!" at the top of his voice. The king rummaged through the papers, snatched Hitomi's picture, and rushed back into his hiding place – the "woods."

He sheathed his sword and collapsed onto the squishy dirt, breathing heavily. The picture was marred and muddy, but her eyes still gazed at him, begging him to save her. He knelt there and hugged the picture to his chest.

"I'm coming, Hitomi… I'm coming…" he whispered.

His mind was scattered, but Van still worked to think of his next move. He couldn't remain in this place for more than a few moments – that man would surely return with others to reclaim his property and discover the meaning of his blatant threat. Van carefully folded the picture against his heart and stood again.

A thought struck him, beginning to form slowly. The other man – the one he had bumped – he had many of these papers. Hundreds, perhaps. They all would have her picture on it. Yes, and if he had so many of these… he must have taken them. He must be the painter or… at least, he would know where the painter was. And Van… Van could find the painter and discover where Hitomi was. Surely that man would know!

Energized by his idea, Van exploded from the park at a dead run, hurting into the road. He shouted her name as his feet left the pavement, landing heavily on the asphalt without a pause in their speed. The only thing that slowed him was a piercing siren. He doubled over as he ran, the sound paining him, cutting into his brain, stopping his flight to the man with the papers, with _her_ picture.

The ambulance slid to a halt after the decisive thud from the front.

"Shit, Moose, I _told _you to slow down!" shouted a paramedic from the back.

"Damn, we hit a kid!" said another as Moose turned toward the back.

"That guy is dying, we gotta get him to the nearest care facility! I don't care how fast I gotta go!" he hollered while he and the passenger leapt out of the vehicle to find the body.

"Oh, damn, he's bad," mumbled the passenger. People were beginning to gather to see what the show was about. Moose quickly ordered a stretcher.

"What?! There's no room in the ambulance for him!" the man yelped.

Moose shrugged grimly and moved to lift the boy and continue his journey. "Can't leave him here in this condition, he'll need treatment."

"But… but, a hospice?! People go there to _die – _not recover from this!"

"We can move him later. _Now _he needs us," Moose snarled, and the argument was over.

Van's prostrate body was loaded into the back of the ambulance, tilted against a patient who would pass on before the speeding vehicle reached the Hospice. The king was unaware of the movement and the arguments over his head as he was born away. Unconsciously, his hand had flown to his breast where Hitomi's picture and pendant lay, his body curling around them in an effort of protection when he was struck by the ambulance.

The men shook their heads as they barreled into the Hospice's ambulance entrance. Van seemed likely to survive, lying half-on the dead body for much of the ride.

So did Van remain ignorant of his swift ride as Fate bore him ever closer to Hitomi's resting place – We Care Hospice, the place people are brought to die.

**Author's Notes:** Of course, I apologize for all those who had to wait _so long_ for this to come out. Really, I try to keep track of time and make room for this story – but life never goes as we plan, eh? Reviews will be adored and hugged as usual and I hope the story is beginning to get interesting for you readers! Thanks to anyone who is _still _sticking by this story. :) I love you all! Thanks for reading.

If you would like to be notified when each new chapter comes out, please e-mail me at and ask to be added to the mailing list for Shattered.

**Skittles1: **So happy you liked last chapter! Hope this… isn't too late. hides We seniors got to stick together! School is so evil. �

**YamiVixen: **I love getting comments that mush all over my story. (Who doesn't?) But yours was particularly nice – thank you thank you! I hope you are still checking for updates and like this new chapter. Sorry for the long wait!


	8. Reunited

Shattered

Reunited

Van coughed and rolled to his side where his fingers thudded against cool metal. His eyes flickered open to a bright, white room. He was in a white, soft bed bordered by low bars and blinking machines. A soft hum filled the room. He felt the vibration in his skull. There was a wall full of windows, but each was covered with slats and bars and Van could make little sense of the place.

He pulled himself to a seated position and tried to remember what happened. He recalled an impact… then nothing. _I must have been hurt. Maybe this is where they take the injured… _He breathed deep, noting the heavy herby scent of the place. _Medicine. Must be a place they care for sick… Maybe Hitomi will be here!  
_

Van twisted his head to the side and looked at the door. If Hitomi was out there, somewhere, then Fate must be propelling them together. He took a deep breath and tried to swing his legs over the metal rails. His muscles hardly responded and he collapsed against the pillows, groaning. His body was searing hot and aching. Each movement brought a sudden bite of pain. He gripped one of his legs when a slight spasm shook him and was startled to discover he was not wearing any pants. A quick inspection of himself, now fully awake, revealed he was wearing a papery-thin material that covered only his front and, even that, only minimally.

A quick grunt and shift and he was leaning on the metal bars for support, struggling to get them to collapse and allow the bed to release him without the painful movements of his legs. But no such luck.

Tilting his head, Van glanced swiftly around the room again. The machines near him beeped softly in response to his shifting. He coughed and shivered at the ache it caused in his body. He slowly became aware of his wings, aching for release and stretching. They, too, burned with agony and pain from the impact and his chest heaved at the difficulty of restraining himself. His fists clenched the blankets, beads of sweat dripped past his eyes, and a single machine started trilling loudly.

The door slammed open and two white-clad bodies rumbled inside. They shuffled around him to look at the machine first, muttering to each other in the strange language. A welcome distraction from the throbbing in his back, Van immediately decided to beg these important-looking people to help him find his Hitomi. He didn't get a chance to speak.

"You okay there? Your heart rate was clippin' right along!" The heavyset woman who had entered second spoke. Van coughed again, his thin frame shivering, struggling to decode any part of her speech.

"Oh, Honey, leave the poor kid alone. Try to convince him not to sue," the other woman smiled at him. Van became excruciatingly aware of his lack of pants. The women tugged wires and adjusted machines, then turned to go.

"Wait!" Van yelped, and Honey turned around.

"Gina, hang on a second. He needs something." Gina returned to her friend's side and both women looked at the young man seated on the hospice bed.

"Excuse me, I need my clothes and weapon," Van spoke very slowly, hoping the women would catch what he wanted and bring him back his clothing. The air in the room was increasingly cold and he could feel gentle gushes of the warmer air in the hallway – they had left the door open.

"Oh dear. He must be a foreigner. I've never heard that language in all my life!" Gina lamented. "I hope he didn't come from a place with a lot of lawyers… Honey, do you think he can understand us? Oh dear, oh dear… What a mess we are in," she cast a glance at Honey, who was nodding her curly blond hair at Van's delicate speech.

"Please, ladies, I need… I need…" Van floundered for a word they might catch, "pants. I want my pants."

Honey clapped her hands in delight. "Gina! Hear that? Pantsu! Pantsu! Clothes, he wants his clothes!" she grinned, satisfied with her brilliant detective work. Gina stared between the doorjamb and ceiling, considering and weighing her choices.

"Is he the patient that came in with the sword?" she asked abruptly. Honey shrugged, then nodded;

"I think."

"Well… it was a real sword, I heard. I'm guessing that he may be somewhat mentally unstable. Really, have you ever _heard _a language like that? He looks Japanese… perhaps this language is something he made up in his own mind. It sounds like our dialect, but none of the words are correct."

Honey bit her lip. "So, no clothes?"

Gina nodded. "No clothes."

Van's devastatingly confused look brought out maternal smiles and pats on the head from both women. Gina vanished almost immediately afterwards, leaving Honey besides Van, trying to explain that he would not receive his clothing until he was discharged from the hospice. She was not making any progress, and Van, realizing that the exchange left him weaponless, sighed and shrugged pathetically.

"No…" he shook his hand, "No pants?"

Honey smiled and hugged him as she would a child. "Not yet, snuggle pie. Don't worry; we'll get you you're clothes sometime soon!" She giggled and made her way to the door, pointing at her puffy nurse pants. "Pantsu!" And she was gone.

Van groaned and flopped back on the bed. What was he going to do now? No clothing, no weapon, and he hadn't even had the chance to ask about Hitomi. He stretched out against a pillow and took a deep breath. He reached toward the machines he watched them prodding and adjusting and carefully poked a few buttons. It whirred and went silent. He searched for buttons or switches with the same words scrawled beside them and, gradually, all the machines quieted.

A long minute passed by – no one came to check on him. Van reached down and tugged the wires surrounding him off to the side, ripping out a needle in his arm with a wince. Sitting there, plugging his tiny wound, Van waiting again. No one came.

Finally, he staggered up and to the door, his leg muscles screaming with every step. He clutched the frame and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath against the pain. The pendant rocked gently against his chest, and Van _knew_ his Hitomi was somewhere here – somewhere near, even.

The door whispered silently over the cold tile as Van inched it open. An empty, silent hallway awaited him. He breathed in the antiseptic sting of the walls and took a step out into the building.

That interaction had left him with one thing – the word "pants." The two doctors (were they doctors? He wasn't sure) understand that much of his speech. That word, at least, could get him to his clothes, if he played it right. Van scrambled down the hall and ducked into an empty room, mirroring his. Working slowly this way, the king checked every room down the hallway. At one point, he thought he heard people rushing into his room, but it turned out it was only the room across from his. When the doctors were out of sight, he crept into a tiny boxed area whose doors slid soundlessly closed.

He crumpled to the floor, gasping and clinging to his cloth. The achy, fiery burn from his wings and muscles was pulling him downward, begging for a rest. But he had to find Hitomi. He needed to make sure she was safe.

The room he hid in was tiny and empty. Buttons, much like those on the machines in his sickroom, decorated one wall. The doors remained tightly closed. Van snatched a rail over his head and hauled his tired body to its feet again, examining these buttons. His fingers brushed over them. Carefully, he selected the lowest button in a long column and jabbed his finger into it, squeezing his eyes closed with apprehension.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The walls remained silent and the doors stayed sealed. Then, Van heard a soft humming from somewhere far off, and the room jolted. He cried out in alarm, sprawling onto the floor. Ignoring the pain, Van rocketed immediately back onto his feet, staring, terrified, around him. No weapon by his side and uncertain of himself, he realized they were drifting downward. The room shuddered, once, and jerked to a stop. Van stayed upright this time, and dug his fingers into the railing, fear coursing coldly through him, numbing the pain.

The doors, the portals back to this frightening place, again slid silently open. Van scrambled out and stared back at the elevator, shivering, trying to shake off his surprise and fear. He began inching down the hallway, which resembled the one somewhere above him, looking for other doors to search Hitomi may be behind.

He rounded a corner, peering halfway into a window, gasping to catch his breath from the elevator, when he bumped into another white-clad woman. His voice, torn away by the breaths he dragged in and out, could only gurgle. The woman smiled at him, confused, but helpful. Van motioned to his body, then to his throat, trying to convey his inability to speak.

"Oh, honey, what are you doing down here? This isn't any kind of recovery ward… You bring discharged today? You look fine! This hospice is quite a maze, isn't it? You want me to help you out?" The smiling, naïve woman bounced cheerfully in front of Van, who again helplessly motioned to his throat. He hesitated, then nudged his ears and shrugged, trying to show her he couldn't understand what she said.

"Oh my goodness! Are you deaf, hon? Silly me, you can't hear me, then… It's okay; I know a little sign language. My boyfriend taught it to me. He works with chimpanzees, you know. Here, this means, heart. And this means pancakes… and rainbow! That's my favorite."

Van blinked as the women started waving her hands. He poked himself in the throat, then the ears again and tried to look as pathetic and imploring as he could, motioning where his pants should be.

The nurse gasped. "The Lord have mercy on you, you poor darling! Are you mute, too? Oh, a rare case, indeed. Well, I bet you can read lips, can't you, then? Oh, here, let me slow down, you poor darling."

The king knew the crooning tones of this woman's voice denoted some kind of sympathy, or something akin to it, so he licked his lips and nodded, hoping desperately for her to help him.

"Are… you…. deaf?" She asked, achingly slow. Van couldn't understand her, but decided to risk it. He nodded, hard and emphatic.

"Oh… How sad! Oh, yes. Hon… Are… you… mute… too?" The king glanced around at her exclamation, and nodded again.

"Poor, poor baby! Is this from some terrible accident? Are you the only survivor? Did all your friends, your family, pass away? Because of this accident? The Lord left you alone here, did he? You're poor, aren't you, and living this hard life… Oh my, my, my!"

Van tried to keep breathing and ignored the searing, biting pain now shaking his back. He just kept nodding.

"Are you on your way out, then? Just got lost? You're a wonderful lip reader, honey… At least you have that talent. You want the discharge desk?"

Van nodded. He could tell he was getting _somewhere _with this woman. Hopefully it was in the direction he wanted.

"You want me to take you there? It's almost dawn, no one will be down there yet, but I bet you want to get out and start your new life."

Van nodded.

"Would you like me to take you down to collect your things? Do you have anything here? You want me to sign you out, right?"

Van kept on nodding.

"Alright, dear, here, hold my hand, I'll bring you down to the changing rooms and we'll get your things."

Van jumped when she grabbed his arm, but nodded once more and trotted after her. He felt immense relief wash over him when she avoided the sliding doors leading to the shaking room and instead opened a door leading to a large staircase. Van could handle stairs. He smiled at the woman and she continued down the stairs with him, humming softly, talking to him, and trying to get him to sign back. When he returned "heart" and "thank you" she nearly popped – her smile enlarged so quickly. Van felt relieved when the two of them reached another door to a smaller room, filled with boxes.

"Oh dear…" she said. "How will we find your box, without knowing your name? This could be hard… You want to look for you name… Oh… if you're alone here, no identification… Here, look at the anonymous boxes. One of them yours?"

Van dug through the boxes she was pointing at and gave a gurgling cry of release when he found his soft shirt and long, slender sword. The helpful woman, whom Van was taking a shine too, ushered him into a room where he changed and strapped the sword back to its proper place against his hip.

The nurse hesitated, uncertain, at the sight of the sword, but shrugged it off and continued in her quest to assist him.

"Here are the papers that make you free to go! I'm guessing no one will be here to pick you up, so just sign here and you're out!" She handed him a pen and poked at a line. Van had signed enough documents in his world to recognize the request. He rapidly scribbled his name, and handed the pen back. The nurse smiled and pointed to the door. "That's the way out… Good luck, darling."

Van shook his head and fumbled inside his shirt. "You can leave now, hon, you're discharged. Do you under – oh." Her face fell in the shock and pain when she saw what Van pulled from his clothing.

The picture was caked by mud, dirty and torn in a few places. The girl who came in a few days ago, a bloodied victim of the REP. The nurse had taken care of her last night, that silent, frightening young girl. This man stood here, bobbing his head, gently tapping the picture of the girl. The woman bit her lip and looked again at this young man.

"Your life really is tragic today, you poor creature. Did you know her?"

Van blinked and mentally shrugged. This woman seemed to know Hitomi, but she was not yet leading the way to wherever she was. Van swallowed, feeding a heavy chill settling deep in his stomach. He nodded.

"She was probably one of your last friends, wasn't she? Oh dear…. You know, people change, living through something like she did. Poor girl – she doesn't even want to be here. Alive, I mean. She said no one else would come for her. I mean, there has been a girl here, but she can't even stand it so much. Are you a friend?" The nurse gulped, "Do you want to see her?"

Van threw caution away and continued blindly nodding at her strange words.

"And you don't know how to get there, but she's all you have left, isn't she? Do you love her? I could bring you up to her, if you want. Only family and, uh… are you related or something like that?" Can nodded, realizing his back pains were again sharpening. The woman frowned for a moment, then sighed and took his arm again.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this, but that poor girl needs someone like you to fix her up. She's just as alone as you are. Let's go before this place fills up."

Van was dragged down a long hallway, perplexed. White walls flashed by him and he wondered whether or not she was bringing him to Hitomi. His sword bounced and jostled against his leg in that calming, reassuring manner. The nurse pumped forward at a fast clip, her clothing swishing against the polished, white walls.

They reached the elevator. Van cringed, but bravely followed her inside. If this was the way to Hitomi, he would go. Besides, the woman hardly twitched at the room's shaking and shifting.

The elevator doors opened to the eighth floor of the building and the brave king Van stumbled out, coughing and gasping. The nurse guided him to a trash can and Fanelia's great ruler trembled and deposited his stomach into the container. The sweet woman rubbed his back and kept his hair out of the way, obviously accustomed to this behavior. She hummed him a short tune while he clutched the side of the can and heaved. Finally, he returned to a standing position, shaking everywhere, tears threatening his expression.

"Claustrophobia, too, dear? You poor darling. I should have guessed, though, really. It's all my fault. Come on, let's clean you up."

Van docilely allowed himself to be led into a tiny room, murmuring slight disappointment when it did not contain Hitomi. The nurse smoothed his hair back and rubbed a wet cloth over his face and neck. He stood still and did what she mimed, rinsing his mouth out and washing his hands. When she was satisfied, she led him back into the hallway. Van felt much better, though the throbbing in his back was beginning to drive him half out of his mind.

The caring woman opened a door for him and gently guided him inside with her hand on the small of his back. He took hesitant steps, for this room was hushed and frightening, smelling more strongly of medication than the rest of the building. Machines hummed louder here, surprising him. A box hung from the ceiling, machines curving around the tiny hospital bed. On the bed was the most delicate, petite hill curled under the blankets, unmoving.

Van glanced over his shoulder at the nurse, who winked at him and whispered something he couldn't understand as she quietly closed the door. The king turned back and stared at the lump of cloth and felt Hitomi there, felt her great pain. He inched forward into the room, toward his Hitomi.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I guess that ending was a little random. Cliffhanger-esque? Mostly, I wanted to end this chapter before it ended up stealing material from the next chapter. :P Characters tend to do that with me. Well, yay, finally another chapter to read and enjoy! The best news is, I actually started the eighth chapter while working on this one, so it should be coming along a lot earlier than this one did. Joy! Reviews will be snuggled.

If you would like to be notified when each new chapter comes out, please e-mail me at catwinner (at) earthlink (dot) net and ask to be added to the mailing list for Shattered.

**Skittles1: **They're finally back together (sorta). At least he found her now, right? No more waiting to see if they ever meet each other:P Joy!

**YamiVixen: **Computers are certainly not man's best and brightest moment. I hope you enjoy the next chapter, even if it did take months and months and months to get a move on. :)

**JadedTruth**I'm happy you enjoyed the last chapter. Not sure if this counts as updating sooner (probably not) but I really did try! I wrote this entire chapter during school. I'm bad.


	9. Wounded Memory

**Shattered**

Wounded Memory

The crisp air of the morning shivered against the rising sun. A glint of light delicately licked against the hospice's windows and slithered down toward the ground. Patients did not awaken to the birdsong and gentle breeze teasing across the grass. In fact, many of the hospice's patients did not wake ever again.

Hitomi did not awaken with the sun, for she never slept. The darkness heralded the return of the memories of the death of her family. She hated the creeping, insipid darkness. Whenever she felt sleep coming to her, Hitomi would quickly turn in her sheets (as quickly as her sluggish body would allow) and gasp at the sharp pains hissing through her. Sleep fled away at the fresh snap of pain and she would resume laying still, tears leaking slowly from her eyes.

Her mind swirled from the day throughout the dark of night and she was able to lay still and comfortable, not forced to fight away her memories. Van's appearance stood foremost in her mind, but Hitomi could no longer discern reality from her dreams and thus felt uncertain of his ever coming at all. His wings and gentle face showed shock at her condition, true to her imagination, but he scampered so quickly from the doctors and nurses chasing him – Van would never do something like that, not the rash and impulsive Van she knew. Of course, five years changed some people. Perhaps Van grew out of his old mannerisms and became a true king. Hitomi didn't know. Whenever she thought too hard, trying to remember the two of them together, the adventure in Fanelia, a headache would stop her progress and render her helpless.

So when the dawn came and the nurse crept hesitantly into the room, Hitomi was nestled into a comfortable visitor's armchair, staring out the window at the brightening sky. This window – the one she suspected Van flew out of, in her dreams or reality – gave her reassurances, placating the pain from her impinging mind.

The nurse, the same woman who earlier refused to return Van's clothing and sword to him, glanced around the antiseptic room. There was a simple batch of flowers on the beside table, next to a full glass of water and the television remote that no longer worked. The bed, still neatly made, stood silently in the center of the room, flanked by two large, cushy armchairs. Hitomi occupied one of the chairs, resting her chin on the lip under the windows, staring into nothing. Gina, the nurse, sighed and rummaged through the room for a moment. With nothing else to do, she checked her watch and sighed louder, trying to catch Hitomi's attention.

Hitomi was interested in nothing but the window. She watched the sun rise slowly, gloriously, supposing that, by now, Van would have returned, had her vision been real. With a sigh of her own, she calmly watched the sun rise over the glass buildings and the nearby park. The world appeared so pretty and pure.

"Ms. Kanzaki," Gina murmured. Hitomi lifted her head, achingly slow and stared into the nurse's face. Gina shivered at the cold, desolate look of the poor, young girl. "You're being discharged today. Please come with me."

Hitomi blinked, uncomprehendingly. Discharged? She was sick, probably dying, and wanted nothing else to pass away and join her parents. Discharging her meant she was better… but she felt nothing remotely _near _healthy nor was she interested in rejoining the pretty, pure world beneath her window.

Gina bit her lip. The appearance of the angel yesterday made up the devout doctors' minds. They were absolutely sure that the angel emerged to take the girl up to Heaven and end all her suffering. Chasing the messenger away risked the retaliation and the great wrath of God – at least, according to the doctors. Gina remained a nonbeliever, despite working in the hospice and watching people die every day. Even so… the shock of seeing an angel – seeing one with her own eyes! – made her understand their belief, even though the messenger tried fighting them all to remove the girl from this place.

So, with a calm smile to belie her inner turmoil, Gina helped Hitomi up, washed her hair, and dressed her. She bought a less than appetizing lunch for the girl in the cafeteria, which Hitomi plucked and sighed at, then calmly brought the girl to the discharge area. A loud commotion erupted from the main hallways and the two remained in the room until it subsided, though Hitomi's eyes looked toward the disturbance hopefully while it lasted.

The nurse waved goodbye to Hitomi, but she didn't pay any attention to the doting woman. Squinting into the earlier morning sunlight, she wandered back into the city, uncertain where to go.

Meanwhile, the hospice, already in an uproar, witnessed a couple exiting the room Hitomi resided in just hours before, tracing their way back to the elevator, entering just as another gained the room.

Yukari turned toward Amano and gave him a sad smile. In her hand was a white, delicate feather, perfectly formed and soft against her palm. Amano questioned her with his eyes.

"It's a long story, dear. Hitomi never was meant to stay here… I suppose even she knows that now," she hesitated and gazed down at the feather for a long time.

"Yukari…?" Amano touched her cheek. Yukari sniffled and looked back at him.

"This," she said, holding up the feather, "means Hitomi is in a better place. With better people, a place she'll be happier and will heal from everything life has put her through here. This… this feather is the greatest wedding present she could give us, now. We'll know she's happy forever."

Amano, curious, said nothing and simply patted his fiancé's shoulder. Tears slipped unbidden from Yukari's eyes.

Little did the two of them realize, Hitomi was not somewhere on another world with greater people who would rescue her from any pain. She was, instead, wandering just below the window of her old room, tracing her way through buildings and people, letting her feet lead her to where her heart repulsed.

The sun glittered against her laundered clothing. She chewed on her lip, wondering how hard to bite down before it bled. The afternoon slid across her, heat making the buildings shimmer and sweat. Hitomi sought some relief, wandering slowly through the park. She ran through this area every morning on her way to work… well, _used _to run through it. Long before this nightmare began.

The pavement under her feet felt familiar and safe. She could hear, somewhere farther off the path to her right, the chirping of birds and the protests of the fat ducks floating in the pond. Those creatures were lazy and patient, always starving and excited to see chubby fingers tossing crumbs and leftovers through the air.

Her path looked aimless and uncertain to the park-goers, but she knew exactly where she was going, knew certainly where she would end up. Even if she kept energy to fight the impulses to return to her ruined home, her feet would not listen, refusing to obey her half-hearted fear.

The park receded behind her and Hitomi abandoned the forgiving shade of the trees, plunging again into the sun, hotter and hotter the nearer she came to her broken home. The trees bordering her neighborhood street did nothing to dispel the scorching sun, their leaves thin and crisped. There, around the corner. She had fought through an epic storm to get her… how long ago? Ten days, last night… she couldn't recall.

There. Her house stood. The white paint, peeling at the corners, the red trim painted again just this year, during the fall. The hedges needed to be cut back, falling onto the sidewalk in unaccustomed bravery. And the bird feeders that hung in the trees needed to be refilled. Hitomi lifted them down, cradling the handmade wooden feeders against her like a precious child. Materialism… things like this were all Hitomi had left.

She walked around the back, noting the lengthy grass tickling her feet. How long had she been away? This poor house… something needed to be done. She entered the tiny garden shed outside the back door. The house called to her, begging her to return and wander amongst the hallways. The empty hallways, now echoing soundlessly with death and blood.

Settling the birdfeeders on a shelf, she measured and poured birdseed into each, filling it nearly to overflowing. Something niggled inside her, tugging and worrying her. Part of her knew she wouldn't return to this place.

Hitomi returned to the front of the house and hung up the feeders. Birds did not rush down. She looked up and back and saw no birds anywhere near her trees or house. Tears stung the back of her eyelids and she looked away.

Hefting a pair of bush clippers she carried down with her from the shed, Hitomi began to neaten the thick mass of branches jutting into the sidewalk. It didn't take long. She stacked the branches beside the sidewalk, in the driveway, and snipped at the trellises. As long as she remained outside, everything would be okay.

Returning the hedge clippers to the shed, Hitomi toyed with the idea of cutting the grass. The lawnmower would feel good in her hands, struggling against its heavy weight, something she had complained to her father of several times, only to be ignored or put off. Her fingers glazed the top of the handle and she pulled against it experimentally. Pain licked down her back, fiery, heady, and sharp. Gasping, her palm rubbed against the shirt, dismayed at the discovery of wet, shining blood.

Her movements became more measured and eased with the acuity of the pain. There in the shed, she looked for a rag or towel to press against the cuts and clot the flow. Nothing stumbled into her hands, and the emptiness she felt increased. Of course, everything she needed was in the house. Just inside that door, through the living room… the family room… was a small closet, stocked with medical bandages and ointments.

Hitomi pressed her forehead against the cool doorframe. She was sweating, and the pain increased every moment she continued to bleed. Finally, braving her fears and her mind, the agony persuaded her to move to the back door and try the knob – locked, of course. She fumbled back into the shed and dug through a pile of pottery and buckets, finding the key enshrouded in cobwebs on the concrete floor.

She stabbed the key into the lock, forcing in the door with her left shoulder, groaning at the spikes of fire ripping her flesh. There; it was open. She fell to the floor and her mouth tasted coppery blood.

All over the walls, red painted taunting words and pictures. The carpet was stained, deeply discolored. As she watched, blood seeped between the neat stitches and slowly flooded the floor. Her choked cry cut off as she felt the blood sweep into her mouth, lungs, eyes.

In the corner, next to the couch, lay three bodies, crying and gesturing for Hitomi to come and help them, come and save them before they met their pathetic deaths. She tried to stop the flush of horror savaging her, but could only stagger up, cracking her head sharply on the wooden chair next to her in her haste.

Hitomi burst from the door of the soiled house, screaming. Neighbors started from their lazy afternoons, shivering. The sound hung in the air, continued on and on, played over and over. Dogs whimpered and hid in the homes, under porches, or beneath safe playthings, not daring to bark at the otherworldly moaning.

Her feet, calloused and accustomed to long runs, carry her with little effort away from the haunted house. Her lungs screamed and hissed with the burning exertion and the continuous, fluid screaming. The wound on her back oozed and bled sluggishly, soaking her shirt and pants, dripping on the sidewalk, marking her frantic trail in crimson.

Her body, separated from her mind, which remained far away and shielded from the race, carried her swiftly to the only conceivable place. The park loomed above and around her, legs tiring and heart hammering, perspiration pouring off her from the shivering heat.

Her cries ceased long before she entered the park, hiccups and yelps of fear replacing them.

The park was nearly deserted now, the heat keeping most inside – working or curled under an air conditioner, gasping like fish out of water too long. The trees shaded empty pathways and Hitomi ran on, pounding through the swirling, dizzying labyrinth of her vision.

Someone loomed before her, abrupt and tall. Hitomi began screaming again. Her vision furred with pain and fear and she saw the man shrink, enlarge, and heard his own cries joined to hers as she collided with him.

The homeless man had scurried away from his bench to retrieve a bit of newspaper, replacing what was stolen from him earlier by the impetuous youth. The shrieking girl tumbled against him as he tried to stand. His arthritis made it difficult to lift himself fast enough. Hitomi's back was smeared with blood and he struggled underneath her, trying to get her off and away. But she was off in first, skidding backwards, crashing against a tree. And then she was up, staggering back into a pain-glazed run toward the lake.

The hobo shook his head, noticing how his limbs shivered in surprise. Blood, shiny and new, shimmered on his clothing scraps. He groaned and rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye.

"Damn kids," he snarled under his breath, trying to ignore the quickening of his breath and his thoughts of the poor girl's situation.

"I'm moving to the subway. Less goddamned screamin' freaks runnin' around down there, I wager," he mumbled. Gathering up his papers, he receded from the park, listening cautiously for any other injured humans tumbling his direction.

Meanwhile, Hitomi's feet gained the path again, slightly more unsteady than before. The crash had ripped open the stitches and none remained intact. Blood gushed and painted down her back, now staining her jeans, back to the color they were… that day.

The cool water of the lake rose up to greet her. She crashed into a small clump of bushes on her right, vanishing into the foliage. Her head, already smarting from the crack of the table, crunched into the hard, warm ground. Hitomi's vision swam with stars and bright circles of light before her eyes closed and her mind blanked.

For a brief moment, Hitomi lay there, sobbing loudly inside her head, marveling at the blackness of having fainted and then, she thought no more, and the comforting blackness engulfed her again.

**Author's Notes:** And another chapter, turned out with somewhat timely precision? And, Rar, when are they going to meet? It's so aggravating, isn't it? Don't worry; I sense a meeting in the near future. Anyway… review, please, with any feedback or comments you might care to make. Thank you for your continued reading!

E-mail me if you would like to be notified each time the story is updated at catwinner(at)earthlink(dot)net.

**Xanthia Nightshade: **Van is probaby going to think very, very bad things happened to Hitomi, right:P Well, of course! Where's a good, angsty story without the very, very bad things? I hope this update was fast enough for you!

**Skittles1**: My favorite reviewing fan! Yes, when Hitomi reconnects to the real world, may she have amnesia? Or, perhaps, not want anything to do with Van and forget everything about her previous life? Hee, maybe, but, um, as this is mushy and stuff, well, maybe. :D 

**Aki Shinko:** The language barrier is something that drives me crazy in other stories... but, hey, you can't have different worlds magically speak the same language. 'Cause then, well, it's silly. I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this update!


	10. Empty Morning

**Shattered**

Empty Morning

As the kindly nurse first accosted Hitomi early that morning, Van awoke stiff and cold. His skin prickled against the cool sunrise. Trying to stand, the Fanelian king discovered his body curled around an air conditioning duct, cramped and twisted. With a low grunt, he pulled himself upward, toward the beautiful sunrays falling around him.

The first official protest of the morning snarled from Van's stomach. He jumped up and down, trying to ignore the fierce appetite and to warm his rigid muscles. Slowly, the blood crept along his veins, warming him, silencing his body's complaints as his mind accelerated to meet his predicament.

Wandering near to the edge of the roof, Van expressed slight amusement at the height he now found himself. The windows below him were dark, facing the hospice, which glowed supernaturally in the sunlight. He squinted, trying to see inside Hitomi's room. He couldn't even remember which it was, for, in his extreme haste to escape yesterday, he was not able to study the area.

So, his mind made up, Van shrugged off his shirt, stuffing it into the back of his black pants, and stared down at the pavement. Whatever happened to Hitomi, he was going to make it right, he was going to help her – somehow. He knew she would tell him. His heart thudded inside his chest as he imagined someone harming his Hitomi. He dug in his pocket and removed her terrifying picture, sighing as he looked into her doe eyes.

He stepped onto the lip of the roof and took a deep breath. Slowly releasing it, Van tipped himself downward and plummeted toward the hard cement many stories below. With time to spare, he freed his thick, shining wings and drifted to the hospice's front door. It was closed, shut tight, and he landed immediately in front of it, concentrating on reaching out a fist to knock on the glass. As soon as his feet settled firmly on the mat outside, the doors hissed apart to allow him access. He jumped back in surprise and then charged past the magic portal before whoever controlled it changed their mind.

The young lady manning the front desk looked up with a practiced demeanor: friendly, but not cheerful or happy, because this was a _hospice_ and people are _not _happy when they enter it. The mask of almost-helpful-but-not-happy splintered into utter shock as the handsome king strode in, wings fully outstretched, looking from side to side. She cried out and threw herself onto the floor in front of his feet, making Van jump away in his own surprise.

A doctor, rummaging in his briefcase, slipped through the magic doors behind them. His work spilled from the fancy leather carrying case, carpeting the linoleum in confidential patient information. He fell to his knees and lifted his hands to the perfectly etched back of the angel before him.

"May God have mercy on us all, it's true! Oh, great angel, have mercy!"

Van spun around, astonished by this man's sudden appearance and loud cries. He lifted his hands and stepped backward; trying to put distance in between himself and these two prostrate humans. The doctor's loud voice quickly attracted many more people; patients and employees alike. Van felt fiercely overwhelmed and groped for his sword hilt, desperately trying to find some reassurance.

The nurse who spent time discharging Hitomi immediately recognized Van as she passed the group by in the entranceway. She forced herself past the growing crowd and reached for him. With a hiss of something in that strange language, Van pulled away, pressing himself against the cool, white walls of the hospice.

"You're here for her?" the nurse asked calmly, reminding herself that Hitomi left moments ago and this… creature… did not exist. Not in her imagination and not in her reality.

Van lifted the newspaper picture of Hitomi above his head, holding it above the group like a demigod issuing judgment for all their sins. The devout people hunched around his feet moaned at her picture, knowing that she was obviously going to meet God, now. Perhaps a mistake had occurred in Heaven – God could make mistakes, right? – and she was supposed to die with the rest of her family. This angel was here to remedy that.

One of the braver interns pointed to the picture. "She's gone! She left before. I saw her."

Van looked toward the skinny, terrified kid, unable to understand what he was waving about. He shook the picture at the childlike faces staring up at him and the intern began to wail.

"She left! We freed her!" he waved his hands around and then curled toward his other friends, desperate to escape the angel's gaze.

Van felt more annoyed as people continued to pour into the lobby and throw themselves onto his feet, crying and begging for mercy or redemption. The King of Fanelia stretched his wings farther and shivered them in the early morning light streaming through the windows. Cries of awe and shock rung through the hallways. Those noises were ones Van understood and grappled with each day.

Knowing that the people here, curled into painful, fearful positions around his feet were aware of his Draconian ancestry made Van feel faintly ashamed. Obviously, these humans knew of a strain of embarrassing mutations, the same peoples that brought ruin to Fanelia in Atlantis, Van's ancestors, existed here, too. Van felt little comfort from the realization that the humans were terrified of him. However, if he played it right, they may lead him straight to Hitomi. And that was what he was after, wasn't it?

Lifting Hitomi's picture aloft again, Van growled and flexed his wings in a somewhat threatening manner. The movements created the desired affect as the hospice's staff flinched away, crying out. Van took a menacing step in the direction of one of the doctors, pressing Hitomi's picture in front of him, gesturing like a lost blind man, searching for someone to give into the demands of a Draconian prince.

People were crying now, uncertain of their destinies, cowering here in the presence of one of God's all-powerful creatures. The more devout pushed forward, eager to touch the hem of his well-made clothing or hear their sins purged from His mind. Van continued to push forward himself, uncertainly, desperate for a sight of Hitomi to calm his raging fears. He waded through the thick ocean of awed souls and found himself in an antiseptic hallway, the walls ranging far back, doors everywhere, every surface painted a hesitant, faded yellow.

Van risked a glance behind him and saw a wave of people surging after him, calling in their incomprehensible language. He moved forward in a rush, uncertain where exactly he was headed, but convinced remaining among the throng would do him no good.

A door with crude lettering and a picture of steps leading upward greeted Van cheerfully at the end of the hallway. The King of Fanelia tore the door open and scrambled up the staircase, ever aware of the thundering footsteps following rapidly behind. He vaulted the steps three and four at a time, bailing out when his wings crunched painfully against a wall.

He pushed the door shut and dragged several carts in front of the door. It wouldn't hold it closed, but it would certainly make a mess and slow his devoted attackers down. Then he found a small, empty room and hid himself away. He was tempted to force his wings to dissipate, but they were his best defense beside the sword hanging from his belt, and Van couldn't imagine what kind of weapons these strangers held.

He hunched down behind the door, fumbling with an alien metal lock, managing to get a satisfying snick from the stubborn clasp just as a loud, shuddering crash shivered through his body. He knew they had opened the stairwell door and pressed himself low and close to the wall, praying their interest in him would soon fail.

Footsteps thudded heavily outside, some running, some moving slowly, searchingly. The doorknob by his head jiggled and was ignored by the interested crowd. Van waited until he could hear no movement outside his door and inched himself to a standing position. Peering through the tiny window atop the yellowing door, Van saw syringes, cups, plastic gloves, wooden sticks, and hundreds of other tiny bits and pieces of junk littering the hallway. He struggled with the lock for a few moments, painfully aware of how pressing the silence dug into the space around him.

Finally, the lock reluctantly gave way and Van crept into the hallway again. His brain swam with the realization that he would be attacked for his Draconian ancestry even here on Earth. He peered up and down the long hallway and slipped back into the stairwell, hesitating. He heard no thundering footsteps or soft whispers, so he continued he trek upward.

Near the fifth floor his legs began to ache and his back – where the ambulance collided with him – bit painfully as he jogged up the stairs. He halted at the door, leaning against it to catch his breath and touched the pendant on his chest. Somehow this small item was going to lead him back to Hitomi… he hoped.

Van looked uncertainly upward. The stairs ascended forever in his limited view. He couldn't go up indefinitely, never knowing where Hitomi's room was stationed. Van willed his wings away, grunting at the pressure they caused in his back and slowly eased the stairwell door open. To his shock, a young lady stood there in a starched white uniform, holding a clipboard, briskly surprised when she saw the handsome, shirtless Van before her.

"Can I help you, sir?" the young nurse inquired. Van bit his lip and looked pathetic again, the way he had with the older nurse taking care of him. The trick worked once, so he saw no harm in trying again. He held out the ripped and wrinkled paper with Hitomi's pained picture and made a soft noise. The nurse frowned, shook her head, and murmured,

"You know, darling, I _think _she was released today. We can check her room though, if you'd like." Van hesitated again, then nodded and repeated the gentle, sad noise. The nurse, her eyes full of compassion, led Van into the stairwell and continued upward.

"You must be choked with grief. The hospital has several really wonderful grief counselors, perhaps you'd be interested in one of their numbers later. I hope you feel confident that she'll be alright and you should regain your ability to speak soon. I know how hard it is… in fact, I lost my father just last year and…"

Van followed her, nodding dumbly from time to time, powerfully aware of his aching back and tired muscles. She continued talking as they pashed door after door or exits. Finally, she halted.

"Here we are, dear. You are a wonderful listener, by the way. I'm guessing she's a lucky girl!" The nurse opened the stairwell and hustled to another door in the hallway, she pulled it open and frowned when she saw the empty room.

"Aw, honey, I'm so sorry. It looks like she was discharged today after all. I'm sorry. I'm sure she'll contact you soon, though."

Van pushed past her, ignoring the incoherent speech and took in the room. The large machinery had been moved out, leaving the two chairs and a bare bed, new sheets starchy and clean, stretched across the bed frame. He peeked into the adjoining bathroom and noted its sterilized, shiningly neat look. Then he walked slowly into the room and sat heavily on the bed. His heart ached. Where was Hitomi?

The nurse patted him on the shoulder and tilted her head at an angle. "Do you hear that?" she mumbled, half to herself. Van tapped the pendant on his chest and sunk into a trance, searching for Hitomi in his mind. He opened his eyes slowly, took in the room again, then walked to the window. She was out there, somewhere. The nurse opened the window for him, cheerfully talking about fresh air for his sadness.

It was this moment Van's worshippers burst in with a triumphant cry of discovery.

"I told you he would be where the girl was!" one cried, collapsing at Van's feet. The nurse stared at Van, curious and slightly afraid. Van took the only action he could imagine that would keep these… people away from him. He released his wings again. Ecstatic cries filled them room and the nurse beside him burst into tears and scrambled away. He remained standing there, trying to fill the room with his presence, backing slowly toward the window, his old escape route.

As soon as the first doctor moved closer to him, Van turned and again squeezed out the window, scraping one wing painfully against the narrow frame. Then he was free, his wings lifting him up, wind sweeping him away from the hospice.

Doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors gathered around the window, crushing each other to get a better look. "Oh God, he's going for her…" one whispered, and they fell into prayers or tears.

As soon as Van outdistanced the building, he again closed his eyes and searched his heart for any sign of Hitomi. The pendant sparkled in his mind, shivering in the air. Van looped into a lazy circle, keeping his eyes shut as he swung around. The pendant suddenly jerked to his left and Van wheeled in that direction.

Ten minutes in the air and Van swept over the park he discovered her picture in. The pendant pointed downward in his mind, at the large body of water shaded by trees, and Van dipped down where no strange creatures or humans stood, landing gracefully behind a copse of trees.

The day was warm, unseasonably so, and no one looked twice at the young man strolling through the park without a shirt. Van's mind screamed for him to hurry and discover Hitomi, for he sensed she was somewhere near, but the exhaustion of the previous days and the flights seeped through his muscles. He was also careful not to act out of the ordinary and attract more unwanted attention. Unfortunately, Van knew nothing about how people here acted normally, so he tried to emulate the jaunty walk of a group of teenagers fading off into the distance in front of him.

His heart jumped when he slipped past a stand of tall bushes and he stood rooted to the pathway. A couple behind him nearly collided with his halted body and chastised him in their Earth language as they circumvented him. As soon as they turned around a bend, Van dove eagerly into the bushes. He rooted around, shoving aside branches, aware of the noise he was making, but too excited to care.

And then, there she was, lying twisted on the soft grass in obvious pain. Her hair was scattered around her soft, beautiful face and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Van noticed the leftover streaks of shed tears on her cheeks and the clenched jaw. Her fingers wrapped around each other, the knuckles white with pain. Blood pooled around her back and Van felt his own eyes sting with the unfamiliar sensation of tears.

He bent down at her side and immediately her eyes opened. "…Hitomi?" he murmured softly. She reached a hand up and roughly rubbed his cheek.

"I knew you were real… I did…" she said, rolling onto her back. The move caused a spasm of pain and she sucked in her breath. Van reached for her, uncertain what to do, but she stopped him by slowly shaking her head.

"Please… are you a dream?" Hitomi asked in the breathy voice, her eyes clouding over with uncertainty again. Van gently touched her forehead.

"I'm so… scared." Hitomi mumbled and closed her eyes again.

**Author's Notes:** Finally reunited… kinda! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. Summer was much more hectic then I imagined and I'll be moving up to college in a few weeks (two! I'm so excited!) I'll work on this as often as I can, but I (of course) have no idea how much time I'll have there. Please review with your comments and criticism and know that I love you all!

E-mail me if you would like to be notified each time the story is updated at I want them to be all mushy too. Stupid plot! Anyway, Van went to Hitomi, she couldn't tell if he was a dream, he left. The doctors thought he was some crazy angel from God to take Hitomi away (supposing she should have died too), so they released her on that basis and so no more scary angels came into the hospice. So, just a day passed:) Thanks for being such a loyal reader.

**Crystal Twilight: **Thank you for the kind comments on my story. Van was really there, but Hitomi, being so shell-shocked, wasn't sure. Also, Van assumed that the people were terrified of him because of his Draconian background, while all the people there assumed he was an angel. Hope that helps!

**Pure hope: **She's okay! Still… ish. And now they're together… sorta:P Yay for the story continuing at a snail's pace! Let's just pretend me not updating fast is… suspenseful. Yes, suspenseful!

Thank you for all your comments! I'm only responding to three a chapter, and usually the ones with questions in them. Thank you, thank you!


	11. Return to Fanelia

**Shattered **

Return to Fanelia

Hitomi moaned and rolled back to her side. Fresh blood leaked to stain her shirt and the ground surrounding her body. Van delicately touched the side of her cheek, pulling his fingers away as her face crumpled into fearsome pain.

"What… happened to you?" he murmured. She gave no answer, only tilted backward slightly, turning her cheek away from his hand. Her hair was much longer than he remembered and her skin tanner. She had filled out sometime over the five years that they were apart. Her hands were long and delicate, her entire body lengthy and beautiful. Her clothing and skin was dotted with blood from numerous tiny cuts given by the bushes and the larger wound somewhere on her back. Van's hand crept slowly downward to examine the source of the blood.

Hitomi released an animalistic cry and lunged away. The movement caused her incredible anguish, obviously and prominently displayed upon her features. Van immediately gave up his quest. His heart strangled itself, turning and tearing, shattering at the pathetic sight of this girl, once the love of his life.

"Hitomi… gods, come back with me… please, let me take care of you…" Van's voice shook with the powerful emotions coursing through his body. He wanted to cradle her in his arms like a little child and whisper consoling comforts into her fragile ears. But she winced away from every attempt to touch her. Van crawled toward her body, his eyes begging.

"Tell me what happened to you. Who did this to you? Where is your family? What has happened here? Who can I go to? What is the matter, Hitomi? Please…" A quiet descended on the turmoil around him. He felt the two of them were isolated within this busy park, not two people huddled in a bush, hiding from the world's eyes.

"Van… you… are you a dream?" Hitomi's voice hardly amounted to even a whisper. Van was forced to bend down until his ear nearly touched her lips, just to understand the begging words falling from her mouth like tears.

"No… I'm no dream. I'm _here_, Hitomi. Oh, gods, what's wrong with you?" No answer. Nothing made any sense.

The Fanelian King landed here on Earth just a day ago, into a world who hated him for his Draconian heritage. No one understood him here, except for this beautiful girl who could not speak. Something terrible occurred here – but what? What scarred Hitomi like this, damaging her mind so completely that she couldn't even recognize Van as part of reality? His throat constricted painfully as he watched her struggle to comprehend his existence.

"I… they…" she began, her eyes filling tears. As her voice trailed off, her features turned back toward the wet earth, resuming that same vacant, painful stare. Van shivered and forced himself to calm down and focus on helping Hitomi and discovering what happened to her later.

"Hitomi… come with me… to Fanelia. Let me… let me take care of you," he murmured, unsure if she could even comprehend what he was saying. She continued concentrating on the ground beside her cheek, nearly unaware of him.

A long silence passed as the two of them huddled in the bush. Finally, she tilted her head and met his eyes for a brief moment. The fleeting connection passed and she struggled to sit up. Van reached for her, but hesitated when he saw her begin to flinch away. For several painful seconds, he watched Hitomi; her auburn hair trailing around her, eyes squinted in pain, slowly force herself upward.

"I… take me away… this… painful…" she rocked slightly as if some force was nudging her back and forth playfully. "It… are you… are you real? Not a dream?"

Van felt unfamiliar frustration building up within him. Of _course _he was real, couldn't she tell that? Just his being her should be enough to reassure her of that fact.

But as quickly as his emotions rolled to anger, they flipped straight back to concern and confusion. Utter confusion. Something was deadly wrong here… Van wished he could only understand. The blood, her face – there was a long story here that he _needed _to know.

He reached for her again, unable to stop himself. She cried out and lurched backwards, falling from her precarious upright posture. Hitomi's head impacted the ground with a soft thud, muffled by Van's anguished outburst.

Her eyes were still half-open after her body settled uncomfortably on the ground, but they were vacant, staring into the vague world beyond Van's sight. He murmured incoherent phrases, trying to get her to acknowledge his presence – even if only to again call him a dream, a figment of her imagination.

When she didn't immediately reawaken, Van noticed the seeping of the blood from beneath her back. Somehow she was _still _bleeding. As if she still had blood within her, after all this! Van moaned in confusion and left her lying on the cool, hard ground, digging his way from the rough bushes to search out help.

As soon as the Fanelian King emerged from the foliage, Van was struck at the normality even this crazy world continued on. Here was Hitomi, perhaps the most innocent and darling of all women on the Mystic Moon, lying helplessly beneath a bush. And yet, no one rushed up to him – no one even realized that she was here. Van was aghast at the people who meandered past him with a relaxed, bored look on their faces, tending to their everyday lives without a care in the world for poor Hitomi.

He moved swiftly as soon as his muscles relinquished their power to his control again. Van plunged toward the lake, gathering water in his cupped hands and, ignoring the strange looks the strolling people gave him, ducked back into the bushes and splashed the cool water on Hitomi's face. When there was no reaction from her stoic face, Van returned to the lake for more water.

Finally, she began to stir, coming slowly back to life. Van bent over her, frantically scanning her face, waiting for her to open her eyes again. When she did, tears stung her cheeks and pattered to the cold, hard ground. Van slowly reached for her, trying to avoid her pained back. At first she was resisted his arms, but eventually leaned onto his shoulder and just cried.

The beautiful girl seemed so young and vulnerable in his arms, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook. Somehow, Van could feel a small portion of her pain, throbbing inside his chest agonizingly. Finally he mustered up enough bravery to speak again when she slowed her crying.

"Hitomi… Please, I don't know what went on here, but I want to take you away from all of it. Come back to Fanelia with me now. Please, Hitomi."

She looked up slowly, breathing heavily. It was as if she just saw Van for the first time. Her fingers gently traced against his cheek. He felt her pain burning against his chest. The pendant was hot and his skin ached under its pressure. She started to shake her head, but then halted, as if the confusion he read on her face was too excruciating for her to continue under.

"I… don't…" she mumbled. Van leaned closer to her and this time she didn't shrink away.

"Hitomi, please come with me. What could be keeping you here? Whatever happened to you…? I would just… please, please come."

She stared through his pleading body and saw something far beyond Van's begging eyes. A long time passed as he held her upright. The birds swooped slowly overhead, making long and lazy turns through the maze of branches. A squirrel chattered close by, hugging tree trunks as it scampered about, content in its business. Van could hear children laughing somewhere in this distance and the calming thrum of regular conversation nearby. His chest was smeared with blood and grass around them was stained darkly. Hitomi looked tired and confused, unable to choose Van or whatever was left for her here, in this scattered life.

A meandering wind found them and her slight body shivered. Van moved to hold her closer to him, so he could act as a shield as they sat there in the confusing silence, but Hitomi remained steadfastly where she was, peering into the great depths around her, her mind achingly turning around her choices.

"There's no one… no one left," she whispered. Van was stunned at the broken cracks in her voice as she sniffled and coughed hard enough to shake her entire body.

"I'm… alone…"

Van shook his head and touched her hair with his fingers. He couldn't imagine anything to say to his poor, shocked Hitomi. He wanted to clutch her against him and reassure her. But, she seemed so far gone and confused that nothing so simple would be able to reach her. For a few short moments, they sat together on the bloody ground and waited.

Van was unsure what they waited for. Only that it was necessary he was quiet and just held Hitomi. She sorted slowly through everything that had happened, ignoring the painful details and skipping over the realities of the situation as smoothly as she could. Van glanced upward, past the trees, to the great blue sky looming above the two of them. Then he felt a change in the tiny creature his arms enclosed. He felt a tiny spark of strength within her, and the pendant ceased burning as painfully.

"Okay," was her only reply. Van needed no other urging as he struggled to his feet and tried to lift her with him. She could not seem to stand, however, surrounding by blood and her own images of destruction, Hitomi was empty and exhausted. She could feel the ebb and flow of the black tide within her mind, waiting to sweep her away. Looking at Van, this dream, this construct her suffering had created to sooth her; she could imagine nothing easier than falling asleep forever, in his arms.

The slow undulation of the grasses around her looked so comforting. She stretched her arms toward Van's apparition. He bent to her, carefully trying to guide her up. Her heavy body was unable to leave the soft support of the grass. Van finally reached for the dull pendant's glow and pictured the beautiful city of Fanelia in his mind.

Van remembered the beautiful stream that ran just a short walk outside of his castle, its twists and turns beneath the trees. He pictured the clearing with the large rock overhanging the water that he enjoyed visiting so very much. And with this image burned into his mind, he wrapped himself around Hitomi and begged the pendant to send them there.

A warm light engulfed the two of them. Hitomi cried out in some shock or pain that made Van wince. The two of them slowly lifted from the spongy ground. Around them, Van could see the strange peoples of this world pointing and exclaiming with shock at the transportation of the couple.

Finally, they receded past the Earth and into the Heavens. Van squeezed his eyes shut and held Hitomi that much tighter. When he again dared to peer around them, he felt his feet stumble underneath of him, trying to support his weight as they were gently landed on Gaia.

Hitomi stared around with wide eyes from the ground where she now occupied clean grass. The soft whisper of the stream enticed her gaze and she rewarded it with a hand, half-lifted from the ground. Unable to understand the changes in the world around her, Hitomi finally succumbed to the extreme lack of blood and exhaustion and allowed the bleak darkness to enclose her once more.

Van allowed his body to be Hitomi's pillow for a short time. She would not reawaken and he knew her injuries, whatever they were, must be quite severe. Though he reached the water and sprinkled it against her face, Hitomi remained in a torturous repose.

The King of Fanelia wiggled his way out from underneath the dead weight of Hitomi's body. He slowly inched his arms beneath her back and legs. With his strength summoned and his heart pounding loudly in his ears, Van lifted Hitomi and released his wings.

The spectacle was incredible, though only the trees stood to witness it. Feathers scattered across the ground and reddened from Van's bloody chest as they fell. Hitomi's body, battered and torn, hung limply from Van's strong arms. Then he looked to the sky and pushed off as best he could manage.

The beginning of the flight was difficult. Carrying so much weight on top of his own, plus their continued use in the last few days, gave Van's wings plenty to complain of. But he forced them to lift the couple into the sky and glided roughly back to his home.

Advisors and others stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the spectacle wobbling through the sky. Van rarely, if ever, allowed any to view his fantastic wings, and the descent from above was nothing near graceful.

Guards rushed in to help the king, seeing blood smeared across both he and the lady. They were both quickly ushered inside. Milan, the ever trustworthy advisor, beckoned Van to come away with him and explain, but Van had no time for him. He refused to leave Hitomi's side, only allowing to be led away when they examined her wounds.

He rejoined her bedside a short time later, scrubbed quickly clean and changed into clothes slightly more suitable to his reputation. The court advisors were scrambling to control the wild rumors with the incredible story Van had given them.

He sat there, on the edge of Hitomi's bed, and stared down at her pale, drawn face. She remained in her darkness, content to be spirited away from pain and terror. Van touched her cheek and gently stroked the end of her chin. The blood had been cleaned from her body and her clothes had been changed into a soft, clinging material that shifted with her as she breathed.

"What happened to you?" Van whispered to the form curled under the warm blankets. He finally stood and pulled a chair near to her bedside. His body contorted itself into a comfortable position and he gently took her hand in his own, awaiting patiently for her to return to this world.

**Author's Notes:** Sorry that this chapter has taken so very long to appear. College is… well, college. I'm happy here, though, and I just wish I had a little more time to write. Anyway, I _will _finish this story, eventually, so! There's something to count on.

E-mail me if you would like to be notified each time the story is updated at This chapter took an insanely long time to write. Hope it came out decently. :P I'm just happy I can write about them together now. Yay!

**Crystal Twilight: **I just couldn't imagine anyone like Van wandering around in our world without some kind of crazy adventure. Plus, I love the wings. So… well, don't you think he's quite like an angel?

**Pure hope: **Sorry this update took so long! She's okay… sorta! But we'll have to find out later how okay she really is and will become, eh:D


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